Revive
by strwbrygrl77
Summary: He woke to a nightmare world where nothing made sense - except her. Somehow he knew she would always make sense. A "what-if" post-series fic. -ON HIATUS-
1. Amnesia

_A/N: Here we go again, readers, the start of another IPS tale. A couple items of note before we get into the story: 1) if Mary and Marshall seem a bit OOC in this tale, they are - and it will become obvious why very quickly. 2) I own nothing but the story line and the few original characters that appear within the story. 3) Yes, I know that Jinx is still in Albuquerque at this point and she will appear but only once in a while because I don't enjoy writing her that much. Besides, this story isn't about her._

 _OK, on with the story-_

* * *

His eyes fluttered open and stared at the ceiling above him, listening to the beep of monitors, silently wondering how he ended up in the hospital again.

 _Again? Have I been in the hospital recently?_

He moved his right hand towards his face and saw that there was an IV attached to that arm, pumping fluids into his body. Bringing the hand all the way up, he tried to touch his face but was prevented from doing so by a mask over his mouth and nose.

 _I'm on a ventilator? What the hell happened to me?_

He heard a gasp outside of his line of sight and suddenly a blonde woman with green eyes was leaning over him, smiling. "Doofus, thank God! Let me go get the doctor and I'll be right back, ok?" She vanished as quickly as she had appeared.

 _Doofus? Is that my name? If it is, I have a bone to pick with my parents._

The blonde woman was back again, leaning over so close that he could see that she had been crying, her eyes red and swollen. She reached up and brushed some hair back and he felt her hand shaking.

"Don't ever scare me like this again, Marshall. I can't take it."

He blinked. _Marshall – is that my name? It's much better than Doofus._

"Good afternoon, Mr. Mann. It's great to see you awake." A gray haired male doctor moved into his line of sight. "I'm Dr. Fledgling. How are you feeling?"

He managed to shrug one shoulder and pointed to the ventilator tube.

Dr. Fledgling nodded. "Yes, I understand that the tube is probably uncomfortable but until I'm sure you are able to breathe on your own I'd like to leave it in-"

He made a scribbling motion with his hand and a white board and marker suddenly appeared in his right hand. He started slightly and glanced at the blonde haired woman who smiled at him. Nodding a silent thanks, he turned back to the doctor and wrote the words: **How long**?

Dr. Fledgling frowned. "If you're still doing well, I can take the tube out in twenty-four hours, all right?"

He grunted but with the tube in, it sounded more like a gurgling sound, so he simply wrote: **Yes**.

"Good, good. Now, let's move on. How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"

He thought about that question for a moment. He did have a headache, but it wasn't too bad. And his body felt stiff and achy, like he had been sick or in a car crash but nothing he couldn't handle so he shook his head.

"That's good to hear," Dr. Fledgling made a note in the chart. "Now, can you tell me what you remember about what happened?"

He bit down the rising sense of panic inside but the heart monitor gave him away. His pulse went up and Dr. Fledgling's gaze went to the machine. "What's the matter?"

He wrote the words on the board: **I don't remember**.

"That's quite common, Mr. Mann. Please try to stay calm – it's natural to forget the events surrounding-"

He shook his head and wiped the board clean and wrote in big letters: **I don't remember who I am.**

The blonde haired woman gasped. "Marshall-"

He wrote: **Is that my name**?

Dr. Fledgling and the woman exchanged a long look. "Perhaps we should step outside for a minute, Mary-"

He threw the board on the bed and ripped the tape off one side of the ventilator mask.

"Mr. Mann!"

"Marshall, stop!" The blonde haired woman grabbed his arms, her fingers wrapping around the muscles like talons.

The instant the two of them made physical contact, it was as if his body remembered her touch even though his brain didn't. He stilled under her fingers, looked up into her eyes, seeing an emotion in them that he couldn't yet define.

"I know you're frustrated and want answers and I'll help you get them, all right? But you have to be a little patient. You can't get them all at once and you're only going to set back your recovery if you rip out your ventilator tubing and force the doctor to put you in restraints."

He nodded and she dropped her hold on his arms as he noticed for the first time that the doctor had left them alone. He picked up the board and wrote: **Who are you**?

She flinched but answered his question in a hoarse whisper. "My name's Mary Shannon."

He shook his head stubbornly and added the words: **Who are you to me**?

She smiled sadly. "We've been partners for ten years – and best friends. Just recently, however you became the boss – so things are a bit complicated now."

He tipped his head to the side and studied her for a moment. She looked like a woman who knew how to take care of herself, but he sensed a vulnerability underneath her tough exterior. Perhaps it was only her worry over him – but he had a sense that it was always there, and perhaps he was only one of a few people to see it. There were dark shadows under her eyes in addition to the evidence that she had been recently crying and again, somehow he knew that she wasn't a woman that cried easily or often. His eyes swept down to her hands and noticed that her fingers were bare, no wedding or engagement ring on her left hand.

Suddenly there was a flash of memory in his head of a sparkling ring on a table top – and then someone's fingers slipping a ring onto a trembling hand as someone said: 'Will you marry me?"

He shook his head and held a hand to his forehead, rubbing his temple at the sudden pain that had flared up.

Mary moved closer, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder. "Marshall, what's wrong? Should I call Dr. Fledgling back in here?"

He shook his head and grabbed the board: **No, I'm fine**.

"The hell you are – are you remembering something?"

He glanced up at the fear he heard in her voice. What the hell had happened to him? What couldn't he remember? He had this strong feeling that the woman in front of him didn't scare easily and yet he would swear that was fear he saw in her eyes. He erased the board and wrote: **Are we engaged**?

Her reaction surprised him. He expected her to laugh at him or throw her arms around him in relief that he remembered, but she did neither. Instead she studied him for a long minute before whispering, "Why would you ask that?"

Cursing the tubing and not being able to communicate with her like a normal human being he wiped the board clean and scribbled: **Because I just had this flash of a ring and asking someone?**

She smiled sadly and shook her head. "Wasn't me – you were probably remembering the day you proposed to your Nancy Drew detective girlfriend."

He frowned at her and she winced.

"Sorry, that's what I call her – her name's Abigail Chaffee. She's a homicide detective with the APD – that's where we live, in Albuquerque, New Mexico."

He nodded absorbing the information. If he had a fiancée, why wasn't she here, by his side? Why was his partner the first face he saw when he woke up?

Mary seemed to read his mind as she spoke again, not waiting for him to write the words. "You broke off your engagement- before the accident that landed you in here."

He started and shifted in the bed, hearing the sound of clinking metal as his legs moved for the first time since waking. Looking down he saw that his left ankle was cuffed to the rail of his bed. He raised furious eyes to her and Mary's hands were already on his chest, trying in vain to stop him as he again pulled at the tape on the sides of the mask.

"Marshall, stop! I promise I will tell you what's going on but I don't want the staff to tie you down –"

He was deaf to her pleas and his hands were already wrapped around the tube, pulling and yanking it out. Mary backed up a step in horror as he gagged and retched, finally getting the ventilator tubing out and he lay panting on the bed, pale and exhausted.

"Marshall, what have you done? What if you've caused permanent damage to your vocal cords? Was it really worth it just so you-"

"Could talk? Hell yes," he rasped, pushing the button on his remote and the bed tilted him up to a sitting position just as the door flew open and two nurses ran in.

"Mr. Mann! That was very dangerous!"

"You could have seriously damaged your throat-"

Mary stepped aside and let the nurses check Marshall's breathing and listened to a severe reprimand before they left, saying that Dr. Fledgling was on his way back down.

He turned to Mary. "Answers, now."

She licked her lips and focused her gaze on a point just above his head. "You're cuffed to the bed because you're the prime suspect in a murder investigation."

The words hit him like a bucket of ice cold water and it took a moment for him to formulate a response. "The police think I killed someone?"

She nodded.

"Who?"

She continued to avoid his gaze, though she could feel it on her. "The murder victim's name is Kenny Evans, a man I was dating."

He frowned. "Why would I kill him?"

She cleared her throat. "Because he-"

"That's enough, Miss Shannon."

Both of them turned to see a female APD officer standing in the doorway, her facial expression unreadable.

"Abigail, what are you doing here? How did you even know he was awake?" Mary demanded.

"The good doctor called me – which is something you were supposed to do."

"I was going to but I've been a little busy. It's no use your questioning him – he doesn't remember anything."

"We'll see about that."

"No, Abigail, I mean he doesn't remember anything – his name, his family, his job – nothing."

Abigail's eyes narrowed in suspicion as she left the doorway and crossed to the other side of Marshall's bedside. "Is that right?"

He nodded slowly. "So, I take it you're the same Abigail that works for APD and used to be my fiancée?"

Abigail's eyebrows shot up as she looked at Mary. "Memory seems fine to me."

Mary shook her head. "I told him about you ten minutes ago. Go on, ask him something else and see what happens."

"All right. Mr. Mann, can you verify your address and place of employment for me?"

"Nope."

She gritted her teeth. "How about your social security number?"

"Nada."

"Birthday, mother's maiden name?"

"Zilch, and I don't even know my mother's first name."

Abigail crossed her arms. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing here, Marshall-"

The smile slid from his face. "I'm not playing a game at all, Detective, and forgive me for trying to infuse this situation with some levity. You have no idea how terrifying it is to wake up in a hospital and have no memory of who you are and be surrounded by strangers. And that's not even the worst part! The worst part is finding out that I'm the prime suspect in a murder investigation when I have no recollection of my life!"

"Detective Chaffee, are you harassing my patient?" Dr. Fledgling asked as he reentered the room with an orderly in tow. "I called you because I didn't want to get in trouble with the police but I will not allow you to upset Mr. Mann who has just woken up from a coma. If you ladies will excuse us, I am here to take my patient up to MRI – I want a closer look at your brain, Mr. Mann. And you can take the handcuffs with you – my patient isn't going anywhere and the metal will only interfere with the scan."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Doc. Marshall still needs to be questioned-"

"Fuck, Abby – does he look like he's ready to run a marathon? Post an officer outside his door if you're that worried about getting in trouble with your boss," Mary snarled.

"Fine," Abigail removed the handcuffs and backed towards the door. "But this investigation has been on hold long enough. I'll be back tomorrow."

Mary rolled her eyes. "I don't know what you ever saw in her."

"Long enough?" he repeated. "How long was I out, Doc?"

"Long enough to have Mary and I worried-"

"How long?"

"Two months, Marshall. You've been in a coma for two months."

He swallowed. "What the hell happened to me?"

Dr. Fledgling spoke softly. "You were hit by a drunk driver in the early morning hours of June 2nd and sustained massive internal injuries. The mere fact that you are alive and talking to us today is nothing short of a miracle, Mr. Mann."

"And the other driver?"

Mary shook her head. "Died at the scene. The paramedics had to use the jaws of life to get you out of your truck-" she cleared her throat and dropped her gaze.

Something inside of him wanted to reach out and comfort her, this stranger that he didn't remember but clearly had strong emotions for him. In the end, all he could do was whisper, "Hey, I'm still here."

Mary gasped as her head shot up and her eyes met his, the tears threatening to fall.

He frowned. "Did I say something wrong?"

She shook her head. "No, you said something right."

Dr. Fledgling cleared his throat. "I hate to interrupt but I need to take Mr. Mann up to MRI, Mary."

She nodded and started to back away but he grabbed her hand, unwilling to break contact yet with her. "You'll be here when I get back? I – I know I have no right to ask it of you since you must be exhausted but you promised to help me get answers."

Mary squeezed his hand before letting go. "You have every right to ask, Marshall. I do need to make some phone calls now that you're awake – and check in at home. But I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Promise?"

He knew he sounded like a lost little boy, but that's how he felt right now. Her presence calmed him, made him feel less panicked and more focused. He also had a feeling that she held the key to the locked doors in his mind.

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his brow. "I promise. And if you promise to be a good boy for Dr. Fledgling, I'll bring you a surprise."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "You do realize that anything you bring will be a surprise to me at this point?"

She smiled. "Yes, but it might also help you remember."

* * *

 _A/N: Well, what do you think? Intrigued? Confused? Utterly Lost? Want More? Give me some Love in Reviews!_


	2. Sideways

_A/N: No, readers, this is not a dream. This is most definitely happening. The 'what if' I refer to in the summary is 'what if Marshall was accused of murder but couldn't remember what happened? And what could possibly drive him to commit murder?' You will begin to get hints of an answer to the second question in this chapter. On with the story._

* * *

Mary slumped against the hospital wall and let the tears flow. She had never been a woman who cried but ever since the reappearance of her father, James Shannon, in her life four months ago and his subsequent death, the tears just hadn't seemed to stop. Perhaps she had dammed them all up from the time she was seven and she was just now releasing them in one constant dripping mess.

Marshall had been there for her through all of it: by her side, his strong, confident shoulder for her to lean on. She knew that she shouldn't have taken him away from Abigail so much while they were planning their life together but damn it, she needed her best friend. How was she to know that Marshall still loved her?

And then that terrible, horrible night with Kenny and Marshall going over there to confront him and the car accident that followed-

Mary shook her head. Marshall was the one who needed her now. He may not remember anything – but he would sooner or later and they had to present a united front. She knew he wasn't capable of murder- not even on her behalf.

On the job was a different story. She knew that he could and would kill to protect her. He'd done it before and he'd do it again. _But those people were criminals, not-_ she swallowed. _Kenny wasn't a criminal, but he had-_

"Mary!"

She looked up to see Brandi standing in the doorway with Norah in the stroller.

"Where's Marshall? I got your text that he was awake and I got Norah ready and we rushed right over."

"Sha-Sha!" Norah squealed and clapped her hands.

Mary wiped the remainder of her tears away and stepped forward, unbuckling Norah's straps and lifting her daughter into her arms. "Hi, Bug. Marshall's not here – Dr. Fledgling took him upstairs to run some tests."

Brandi's eyes narrowed as she rubbed her pregnant belly. "What kind of tests?"

"Are you OK, Squish?"

"Don't change the subject," Brandi snapped. "Is Marshall OK?"

"I think so, physically, anyway. But he doesn't remember-" Mary swallowed.

"Well, the doctor warned us there might be some memory loss-"

"It's not just a little, Brandi. Marshall doesn't remember anything – his name, his job, his family – nothing. He's a complete blank slate."

Brandi's mouth fell open and for a long moment she didn't say anything. "He doesn't even know his own name?"

Mary shook her head as she cuddled Norah close.

"What does that mean for – well, everything?"

"I don't know."

Brandi stepped around the stroller and placed her arm around Mary's shoulders. "Let's go get some breakfast and talk."

"I'm not hungry."

"Well, I am and so is Norah. And you need to try and eat something. You've lost at least ten pounds since Marshall's accident- I'm worried about you."

"I'll be OK now that he's awake. It was the not knowing if he was going to wake up that was killing me."

Brandi squeezed Mary's shoulder. "Come on, let's go get a Danish to celebrate Marshall waking up."

* * *

Abigail was in a terrible mood by the time she got back to the station. Her head ached as well as her heart; the moment she had seen Marshall awake and talking she had wanted nothing more than to cross the room and throw her arms around him and ask if they could give their relationship another try. She had been so relieved to see him conscious that she had been glad for Mary's presence because it gave her the extra pause she needed to remember that she had been there to do a job and that Marshall was still their number one suspect in Kenny Evans' murder. Deep down, she didn't believe that Marshall was guilty. She knew that Marshall would do just about anything for Mary, but she didn't believe that he would risk his career, not to mention his freedom, for his partner no matter how much he loved her.

"Chaffee!"

She cringed at the bellow from her Captain and set down her bag before turning to cross the crowded floor to his office.

"Shut the door, Detective."

Abigail did and turned to meet the stormy gaze of Captain Cox. "Yes, Sir?"

"You're back from the hospital sooner than I expected."

"Sir, there's been an unexpected development-"

Cox frowned. "Explain."

"Mr. Mann appears to be suffering from amnesia-"

Cox snorted. "Convenient-"

"Sir, if I may continue. The amnesia isn't just limited to the events surrounding the night of the murder – Mr. Mann doesn't seem to recall who he is, his place of employment, or his family."

Cox scowled. "You say 'seem to' – is there some doubt?"

"Well, Sir, he did just wake up from being in a coma for two months – I told the doctor that I'd be back to question him tomorrow. It's possible Mr. Mann's memory might be better tomorrow."

"And it's possible that he might use this as a defense strategy," Cox interrupted.

"I don't think so, Sir. Mr. Mann is an honest person-"

"Speaking from experience, Detective?"

Abigail flushed but said nothing.

"Do I need to remove you from this investigation? I was under the impression that the two of you were no longer engaged. Have I been misinformed?"

"No, Sir, that is correct. Mr. Mann and I are no longer engaged."

Cox frowned. "But you still have feelings for him."

"Feelings that in no way, shape, or form will interfere with this investigation, Sir. I give you my word."

"See that it doesn't, Detective, or you will be removed. Understood?"

"Understood, Sir."

"That will be all."

Abigail backed out of the office, barely holding onto her emotions, her thoughts in a blur as she silently remembered the day it all went sideways.

* * *

 _ **THREE MONTHS AGO**_

 _ **HIKING TRAIL**_

" _Oscar! Oscar, come back!"_

" _Marshall, will you just forget about the damn dog for a minute and listen to what I'm saying? This isn't about me being jealous. Don't try and make me into the jealous bitch-"_

" _No, that's a role you've assigned to my partner."_

 _Abigail reared back. "Whoa, where did that come from?"_

 _He stopped and held up a hand. "Look, I'm sorry, all right? It's just – Mary's been through an awful lot in the last month and I don't want to add to her plate. She needs-"_

" _What, you?"_

 _He looked down at her, an undefinable expression on his face._

" _I need you too, Marshall. That's what I've been trying to tell you, if you'd only been listening to me. We're engaged and I don't think it's too much to ask for you to be there for me when I need you, to want to know when I come first. I know this is lousy timing with her father dying and all, but really, is there ever going to be a good time? It seems like there is always some crisis in Mary's life that she needs you to deal with. I need to know that you can say no to her and put us first – is that something you can do? Can you talk to her about this – for us, please?"_

 _His phone beeped and Marshall fished it out of his back pocket, looking at the screen. "It's work, I have to go."_

 _She sighed. "It's work or it's Mary?"_

 _He reached out and took her hand. "I'll talk to her, Abs."_

 _She shook her head. "No, you won't. You'll start to but something will come up at work or she'll change the subject or-"_

" _She needs me, Abigail. I can't talk to her about this right now."_

" _When can you then? After the funeral?"_

" _I- I don't know."_

 _His phone rang and he answered it on the second ring. "Mary? Whoa, slow down. You found what? OK, I'll be right there." He ran a hand through his hair. "I have to go – we'll continue this later."_

" _Of course, she calls and you run to her."_

" _It's not like that."_

" _Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"_

 _For a long moment he looked at her before nodding slowly. "I'm sorry, Abigail. I never meant to hurt you."_

 _She flinched as she slipped the ring off her finger and held it out to him. "I know. I just hope she realizes the good man she's got."_

* * *

 **Present Day**

 **Lindy's Coffee Shop**

"Please, Mary, eat your Danish."

Mary grimaced but took a bite, trying not to gag on the overly sweet confection. "Happy, Squish?"

"Are you?"

The words conjured up a memory from the past of her and Marshall sitting in this very coffee shop, the day she had broken the news of her engagement to Raph and Marshall asking her if she was happy about it. Mary shook the memory away and managed a weak smile. "I told you, I feel better now that he's awake but I won't be happy until this whole nightmare is behind us."

Brandi snorted. "I can't believe that the APD, let alone Abigail, believes that Marshall is a murderer."

Mary shook her head. "I don't think Abigail does – not really. But she has a job to do, just like the rest of us."

"I never thought I'd live to hear you defend her-"

Mary shrugged. "She's not all bad – she just wasn't right for Marshall."

Brandi smirked. "And I suppose you know who is?"

"I need to call Seth, Marshall's father and tell him that he's awake," Mary effectively steered the topic away from Brandi's matchmaking.

"Seth already knows."

"What?"

Brandi shrugged. "He called the house this morning – he usually does, to see if there's been any change-"

"You've never told me."

"I figured you had enough to worry about with work, and Marshall, and your own recovery-"

"I am NOT a victim-"

Brandi flinched at Mary's tone of voice. "Mary – I love you and you can't keep denying what happened to you that night. You were nearly-"

"I'm not denying it, Squish. I'm in therapy, remember? I do nothing but talk about it and it doesn't help, does it? Not when every time I close my eyes I see Kenny's face and feel his-"

Mary stopped and gulped, her eyes darting around the near empty coffee shop. "Can we please not talk about this here and now?"

Brandi nodded. "Anyway, Seth called as usual and I told him that Marshall was awake. He said that he'd be on the first flight out – be here around five."

Mary took a gulp of her lukewarm coffee. "Well, let's see if he can jog Marshall's memory."

"I thought you said they weren't close-"

"They're not – but bad memories are still memories."

Brandi frowned. "You think he has bad memories of his dad?"

"Not like ours – but he doesn't have warm, fuzzy ones of Seth, not from the little he's told me. Marshall was very close to his mom, but she died two years ago. He and his dad have never seen eye to eye on most things."

"But he's still Marshall's dad – he came and stayed for three weeks after the accident."

Mary nodded. "Yes, he loves Marshall – in his own crusty, messed up way."

"So we really are Marshall's family?"

"For better or worse."

For a moment, the outline of a foot clearly appeared against Brandi's belly before disappearing. "Hush, jelly bean," she soothed. "I fed us so settle down and take a nap." Brandi rubbed a hand over her belly in circles. "I miss our baby whisperer."

Mary smiled. "Marshall certainly has a way with babies in and out of the womb, doesn't he?"

"Are you going to take Norah to see him?"

"I was but since Seth is coming, maybe one surprise person a day is enough. Besides, I still have to fill in the blanks about work and the murder."

Brandi made a face and rubbed her belly harder. "Do you have any antacids?"

Mary laughed. "I thought you always carried some."

"I ran out."

"Let me check." She opened her large hand bag and began to rummage around in it before giving up and dumping some contents on the table: tissues, wipes, an extra pacifier, sippy cup, and one roll of TUMS. "Here you go."

"Thank you – please tell me the heartburn goes away after the baby is born."

"Mine did."

"Thank God." Brandi popped two antacids into her mouth and crunched noisily. "Have you called Stan?"

Mary nodded. "He was holding down the fort this weekend but he said he'd be able to swing by later today or tomorrow – I mentioned Marshall's memory loss but Stan had to go before I could say how bad it is."

"So he doesn't know that Marshall doesn't know who he is?"

Mary shook her head as she reloaded the items into her bag. "I keep hoping that the next time I see him, everything will be back to normal. His eyes will light up in recognition and we can start forming a game plan for how to deal with this mess. All those hours I spent by his bedside, hoping and praying for him to open his eyes, and when he did-" she shuddered. "It was like he looked right through me, Squish. I was a stranger to him. He's been the most important person in my life for a decade and suddenly – nothing. Two months ago he told me-" she broke off, realizing what she was about to say.

"He told you what?"

"It doesn't matter now. He doesn't remember me, or Norah, or anything about his life. It's more important to bring him up to speed on the murder charge that he might be facing than anything else."

Brandi reached across and grabbed Mary's hands. "What is it? Were the two of you-?"

Mary shook her head slowly. "No, no. We weren't. But he told me he loved me – and he asked me if I loved him."

Brandi barely contained her squeal. "What did you say?"

Mary stared off into the distance as she remembered her words from nearly three months ago. "I said I'd never thought of him in terms other than my partner before and he told me that I'd better start. And then-" Mary's voice trailed off as a shudder went through her body, her eyes falling shut.

"Mary?" Brandi's hands tightened on her sister's. "And then – what?"

The words were spoken in a barely audible voice and Brandi had to lean across the table to hear them:

"And then the earth caved in around us."

* * *

 _A/N: What the *beep* happened to Mary? Will Marshall remember? Stay tuned and reviews are LOVE!_


	3. Baby Whisperer

_A/N: I'm having so much fun writing this one - and I hope that the few of you reading are enjoying it too. It's going to be taking a dark turn in the next chapter, though, and that's where the M rating comes in. I just want you all to be prepared._

* * *

 **Marshall's hospital room**

The next time Marshall opened his eyes, there was another stranger in the room, a man. He was balding on the top of his head, but he had a warm smile and a twinkle in his eyes and the sight of him brought up warm feelings that Marshall couldn't explain.

"Are you my father?"

The stranger coughed, waiting for the punchline but then frowned. "You're not kidding?" He swore under his breath. "Mary said there was some memory loss but she might have- sorry," he apologized. "No, I'm not your father, though I have always looked on you as a son. I'm your boss, Stan McQueen."

"Nice to meet you." He nodded. "What is it I do, exactly?"

Stan flinched but pulled a chair up to the bedside and sat down. "You are Marshal Marshall Mann, a fifth generation Marshal, specifically working in Witness Protection. I have had the honor and privilege of working with you for the past fifteen years – well, until three months ago when I was promoted and moved to DC. That was when you were also promoted to Chief of the Albuquerque office, my old job."

His head spun with all this information. "Have all my family members worked in Witness Protection?"

Stan shook his head. "I don't believe so – though I can't be positive since it is a highly secretive job – we aren't even allowed to tell our family what we do for their own safety. Your father is in the FTF: fugitive task force. His name is Seth."

"And my mother?"

Stan sighed. "I'm sorry, Marshall, but she died two years ago – you were very close to her."

He shook his head. "I don't – I can't remember her."

Stan laid a hand on his shoulder. "Don't force it – your memory will come back."

"Do I have any other family?"

"Two brothers, both younger. Scott, a neurosurgeon, has been consulting with Dr. Fledgling on your case. He's on his way here now. Your other brother, Marcus, is a tax lawyer in Boston."

"Neither of them went into the Marshal Service."

Stan shook his head. "No, and from what you've told me, your mother named you Marshall in the hopes that you wouldn't – but she was very proud of you, Son. Very proud."

Marshall rubbed his forehead. "Can I see a mirror? I don't know what I look like-"

Stan went and asked for a hand mirror from the nurses' station and returned, handing it to him without saying anything.

"It's silly but I'm nervous – do I have any hideous scars or disfigurements?"

Stan chuckled. "No. You had some small cuts from the glass – the windshield collapsed in on you during the accident but they've healed now. You do have a small scar on the left side of your neck from a large piece of glass. But otherwise, you look fine. Pale – but fine."

Marshall lifted the mirror and looked at his reflection for the first time. He didn't know what he had expected – that seeing his reflected image would spark memories and unlock the doors to his missing self? But nothing happened. Instead he saw a lean, chiseled face with blue eyes and dark brown hair. There was a small one inch scar slightly off center on his neck dangerously close to his jugular but otherwise his face was smooth and pale. He set the mirror down on the coverlet.

"Tell me about the accident – I've had no details."

Stan cleared his throat. "I don't think I can talk to you about the murder-"

Marshall shook his head. "Then don't – just tell me about the accident that landed me in here."

Stan nodded. "Well, you were driving back to your house around two o'clock in the morning when a drunk driver ran a red light and hit your truck on the driver's side as you were crossing the intersection. Mary was the one who found you and called 911, did she tell you that?"

Marshall shook his head. "Did she see the accident happen?"

Stan bowed his head. "Yes. She was coming from the opposite direction and if she'd been a minute or two earlier, it would have been a three car instead of a two car accident."

"Dear God," Marshall breathed the words softly.

"She tried to get you out through the passenger side but you were wedged and all she could do was wait for the paramedics. They had to use the Jaws of Life to get the two vehicles separated and then you out of the truck – the other driver was already dead. You barely had a pulse and had lost a lot of blood from the glass shard in your neck – the doctors told us later that it had nicked the jugular and you had nearly bled out at the scene yourself."

For several minutes, neither man spoke. Stan was watching Marshall carefully to see if his words had sparked any memory but so far, Marshall just seemed to be reeling from the news of the accident. When he did finally speak, it wasn't the words Stan expected to hear.

"Stan, what exactly is the nature of my relationship with Mary?"

Stan grinned. "That's a question for Mary, not me."

"I asked her and all she said was it's complicated."

"That's a good description."

"Am I in love with her?"

"What does your gut say?"

"I don't remember who I am – and you want me to trust what my gut is telling me?"

Stan nodded. "You're an excellent reader of people, Marshall. You've already picked up on the fact that the two of you have a connection even though you can't remember your relationship at all. So yes, I'm asking you to trust your gut. Are you in love with her?"

He closed his eyes and remembered the feeling of her hands on his arms, her lips on his brow, her promise to be back, and smiled. "I think it's complicated."

Stan chuckled. "And I don't think there's anything wrong with your memory as far as Mary's concerned."

* * *

Before he opened his eyes, he knew she was there.

He wondered if their connection had always been this strong, or if it was only something that had developed since he had been asleep. He could suddenly remember her voice calling to him as he lay in this very bed, pleading with him to wake up, that she couldn't do this without him, that she needed him, that he couldn't leave her now – not now that he had finally told her how he felt.

His eyes flew open and met her cool green ones. "Good morning, Doofus. We thought you were never going to wake up."

"We?" His gaze flitted to the left and landed on the baby in her arms and his breath caught in his throat. She was a beautiful child with golden ringlets and dark brown eyes but the rest of her features were definitely Mary's. "Who's this?"

Mary smiled but he could see the pain in her eyes as she answered, "This is Norah."

"Is she mine?"

This time it was Mary's breath that caught in her throat as Norah nearly tumbled out of her arms reaching for Marshall. "Sha-Sha!"

She kept a tight hold on her daughter as she shook her head. "No, she's mine – but you're her godfather, guardian, and honorary uncle."

"Whoa, that's a lot of titles for one person," he chuckled.

"SHA-SHA!" Norah wailed, wriggling and squirming to be free.

"I think she wants something."

Mary shook her head. "Not some-thing, someone. You. Sha-Sha is her name for you, Marshall."

He swallowed. "Am I good with kids?"

She smiled. "The best – want to hold her?"

"I guess so-" he held out his hands and Norah half fell, half threw herself into him, babbling all the time. She cuddled into his chest and Marshall instantly relaxed. "Hello, Ladybug, how's my girl?"

Norah babbled and cooed and Mary teared up at the sight. Marshall looked to see her swiping at tears.

"Did I say something-?"

She waved his words away. "You have to stop questioning yourself, Marshall. These are happy tears. You have called Norah 'ladybug' since the very first time you held her in your arms – which, by the way, was one minute after she was born. To hear you call her that when you don't remember much of anything right now, means so much."

He stared down at the little girl in his arms. "I didn't think – it just popped out." He shook his head. "So, I was with you in the delivery room?"

She nodded. "You were my coach – right up until my doctor discovered that the cord was wrapped around Norah's neck and I had a cesarean instead. But you stayed with me the whole time."

"Where was the father?"

"Mark was out of town on a job – Norah came three weeks early, mostly because of job stress."

"Ah, you didn't stop working-"

"Why should I? The witnesses needed me."

"Your daughter needs you more."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Some things never change, memory or no."

Marshall began to hum softly and Norah's eyes grew heavy.

Mary snickered. "How do you do that? Brandi said Norah didn't sleep much last night and so I've been trying to get her down for over an hour and she's back in your arms for five minutes and she's nearly out."

He shrugged. "I guess I am good with babies."

"Brandi calls you the baby whisperer."

"Who's Brandi?"

Mary's smile faded. Just for a moment it had been like old times and she had had her friend back. But now, reality had come crashing back in. "Brandi is my younger sister. She lives with me and helps take care of Bug – Norah. She's also eight months pregnant. I'm sure she'll be along to see you just as soon as she can waddle her way in here."

"Why?"

"You and Brandi have developed a big brother-little sister relationship over the years, especially since she came home knocked up from Florida. You've taken her under your wing, gone baby shopping with her and offered to be her coach as well but then the accident happened so-" Mary swallowed.

Marshall looked down at the now sleeping Norah. "It sounds like I'm close to her as well as you."

Mary nodded. "You are. Brandi and Norah would come and sit with you during the day while I was at work. I think Norah was confused why you were sleeping so much and not waking up to play with her. Anyway, when the visits started to upset Norah, Brandi didn't come as often but she still called the nurses' station every day for an update on your condition."

"And how often did you come?"

"Every day – sometimes at night, depending on how long work kept me – why?"

"When did you sleep?"

Mary snorted. "Sleep is overrated."

"Mary-" he shifted Norah to the side, lying her next to him on the bed. "Stan told me you witnessed the accident, that you tried to get me out of the truck-"

She stood up and walked to the window. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I need to talk about it, Mary. You're the only one who can give me the answers I'm looking for. I woke up handcuffed to this bed, suspected of murder – of killing someone you were dating. I need you to tell me why. What happened that night?"

"I'm not going to talk about it with my fifteen month old daughter in the room-"

"She's asleep, Mary-"

"And you think you can't hear things in your sleep?"

"She's too young to understand."

"I don't want her to hear these things, Marshall! I want to keep my daughter away from the ugliness as long as possible – is that so hard to understand?"

"Mary? What's wrong?"

Both of them turned to see a heavily pregnant woman waddle into the room.

"Squish, can you take Norah for a little walk while I talk to Marshall about – that night?" Mary pleaded as she scooped her sleeping daughter into her arms.

"She fell asleep? How?"

Mary rolled her eyes. "How do you think?"

Brandi grinned at Marshall. "The baby whisperer strikes again. Great to see you back in action. I'll come talk to you later, Marshall." She waddled out the door with a sleeping Norah in her arms.

Mary shut the door and leaned her forehead against the wood, keeping her back to Marshall. "You have no idea how hard this is – to tell you something that part of you already knows and not get the support of my best friend that I so desperately need. Because that's something you always used to ask me: 'what do you need?' – I need you, Marshall: my best friend, my partner, the man that I've grown to lean on, rely on for ten years."

"I'm still here, Mary."

She whirled around in a fury. "NO, you're not. You're a stranger masquerading in my best friend's body. I don't know who you are – this man looking at me out of Marshall's eyes, so formal and distant. Where's the trivia? Where's the dry, witty sense of humor? Where's the man who calls me 'Mer' and 'Sunshine' – a name I threaten to knock his block off every time he uses but secretly love."

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, ignoring how the room spun at the movement and took a step before falling to his knees. Mary was beside him in an instant, her hands and arms supporting him back to the side of the bed.

"What the hell was that, Marshall? Are you trying to-"

His hands gripped her shoulders and she stilled under his touch. "I'm trying, Mer. I'm trying to remember me, and you, and us – and you have to understand that as frustrating as this is for you, it's twenty times more frustrating for me. Deep down I have this feeling that you and I were on the cusp of-"

"Don't say cusp."

He grinned. "Why not? There's nothing wrong with cusp – it's a perfectly good word."

She knocked his hands off her shoulders, her nerves frayed by his closeness. "There wasn't an us."

"Wasn't there?"

She licked her lips. "No, not yet."

He nodded his head slowly. "See, 'cusp' is a perfectly appropriate word."

She growled and invaded his personal space this time. "Do you want to talk about that night, or not?"

He reached out and took one of her hands in his and gently sat both of them down on the bed. "Talk to me."

Mary took a deep breath. "You asked me earlier why the APD think you killed Kenny, remember?"

Marshall nodded.

She tried to free her hand but his grip tightened and in the end she left her hand where it was, setting her gaze on their joined hands. "It's because Kenny physically and sexually assaulted me that night."

She felt the jolt go through his body and she didn't dare look at him as she waited for the words – the same words that he uttered that night. "Did he rape you?"

Mary flinched and tried to curl into a ball but Marshall didn't let her. With his free hand, he placed a finger under her chin and lifted until her eyes met his stormy ones.

"Did he rape you?"

She shook under his gaze. "No – but it wasn't for a lack of trying."

He frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means-" she licked her lips. "It means he came close, Marshall. He came too damn close."

She lifted her hands and covered her face as Marshall tenderly wrapped an arm around her, drawing her into his chest. Mary closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to forget for the next few minutes that this was a stranger and not her best friend who but for the cruel hand of Fate could have been more.

* * *

 _A/N: Up next, what happened to Mary on that night three months ago. Was it enough to cause Marshall to commit murder? Stay tuned. Reviews are LOVE._


	4. Broken

_A/N: All right, everyone, here is where the rating goes up. This chapter contains details of what happened to Mary the night Kenny was killed - and it may contain triggers for some. I don't know what anyone's history is, so please be advised that there is violence of a sexual nature in this chapter, though I have tried to keep it as short and as lacking in detail as possible. But this is why this fiction is rated M._

* * *

 _ **TWO MONTHS AGO**_

 _ **Kenny's House**_

 _"Mary, come in! You look amazing – and you're right on time." He led the way to the back of the house to the kitchen._

 _Mary glanced down at her slacks and red blouse, glad that she had had a clean outfit in her go bag in the car. "Actually, Kenny, I'm going to have to eat and run tonight. Marshall and I-" She noticed the clenching of her boyfriend's jaw at her boss' name but she ignored it as he turned and led her through the living room to the kitchen. "Marshall and I have to go over this old case file in prep for a trial tomorrow-"_

 _Kenny stopped and turned back to her, kissing her lightly on the lips. "No problem, babe. I understand how important your work is to you. But I thought Marshall was the boss now – not your partner." He handed her a glass of white wine._

 _She took a sip. "He is – but this is a case he and I worked on together so-" she shrugged, figuring that the words 'old case' were self-explanatory. "This place looks great – are you going to give me a tour?"_

 _Kenny checked the clock above the stove. "Yeah, we've got some time before the steaks are done – let's go."_

 _He gave her a whirlwind tour, ending up in the bedroom, kissing and licking the side of her neck. Mary gently but firmly pushed him away. "Kenny, I told you I have to eat and run tonight. Let's not start anything we can't finish."_

 _"Come on, babe. Don't you think we've waited long enough?"_

 _Mary rolled her eyes. "We've been dating a month, Kenny. We've gone on six dates, counting this one – and we each have a child. Can you blame me for wanting to take things a little slower this time around?"_

 _He gave one last suck to her neck as the oven timer went off. "I guess you're right," he sighed. "And that's the dinner bell anyway, so let's eat."_

 _Over a steak and baked potato dinner, Kenny shared with her the sad news that his ex-wife had been offered a job in San Francisco and was seriously considering it._

 _"But what does that mean for your son?"_

 _Kenny shrugged. "The bitch has full custody so I don't really have a say, you know? I should just feel honored that she shared this information with me instead of dropping me an email telling me of her new mailing address."_

 _"You sound bitter."_

 _He laughed drily. "Bitter? I'm paying child support and alimony and she's the one with full custody and a full time job. Yeah, you could say I'm a little bitter."_

 _Mary toyed with stem of her wine glass. She had been feeling woozy for the last few minutes even though Kenny had only topped the glass off one time. "I need to get going-"_

 _"Wait, you haven't had dessert yet."_

 _She got to her feet and the room tilted. "I really – need to- Kenny, what did you-" she sank to her knees._

 _He chuckled. "Just something to help you relax, babe."_

 _She looked up at him in confusion. "I don't need – I need – to go."_

 _He slowly began to unbutton her blouse. "And I say you need to relax and do as I say." He slipped the blouse from her shoulders._

 _"NO!" Mary gathered what remaining strength she had left and shoved him away, crawling in the direction of the door. Kenny grabbed her heel and pulled her back to him, knocking her head against the table leg._

 _"Women don't say no to me," he snarled as she felt the room going dark around the edges. "Just relax, Mary. I promise it will be good for you too."_

 _Mary was swimming in and out of the darkness but when she finally came to enough to realize what was happening, Kenny was on top of her, naked, moving in and out of her, moaning and groaning. She screamed, "NO!" and clawed at his skin and he slapped her across the face, twice. Mary saw stars but her fingers groped along the carpet looking for a weapon when her quest was rewarded. Gripping the steak knife, she slashed up and out and felt it sink into his flesh._

 _"You bitch!" Kenny roared as he reared back and pulled out of her._

 _Mary rolled away and grabbed her blouse, ignoring the spinning and her nausea the best she could as she grabbed her bag and fled out the front door, leaving a cursing Kenny behind._

* * *

 _ **Albuquerque General**_

 _"No, please, stop! Don't!"_

 _Mary sat up in the bed, looking around her with wild eyes, as a nurse approached her slowly and carefully from the right. "It's all right, ma'am. You're in the hospital – you're safe. No one's going to hurt you here."_

 _Mary took several deep breaths, trying to calm the wild beating of her heart as her eyes landed on the female police officer in the corner of the small curtained off area. "Why is there a cop here?"_

 _The nurse lifted a hand but Mary shrank back. "I'm sorry but it's the law – we have to call the police with injuries such as yours-"_

 _"Such as – oh God." Mary groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Where's Marshall? I need Marshall."_

 _"The friend who brought you in? He's in the waiting room."_

 _Mary's head snapped up. "Well, go and get him! Why the fuck isn't he in here?"_

 _The officer spoke for the first time. "I'm sorry but until I've taken your statement and he's been cleared-"_

 _Mary's Irish temper rose to the forefront. "Are you completely incompetent? Marshall is my partner and best friend – he would never-"_

 _"With all due respect, it's not uncommon for victims to defend-"_

 _"I am NOT a victim! How dare you-"_

 _"Mary."_

 _The words died on her lips as her eyes swung to see her partner standing by the curtain, his eyes pained and his face lined with worry. She wanted to weep and hold her arms out to him like a little child but she held herself in check, not wanting to show any sign of weakness in front of these idiots._

 _"Marshall, tell this douchebag that you had nothing to do with my current state."_

 _The tick in his jaw grew more pronounced and she could tell that his own anger was barely being held back. "I think that needs to come from you for it to carry any kind of weight."_

 _"The man responsible for my condition is Kenny Evans, the man who until this evening, I was dating, all right?" Mary snapped. "Now get out. That's all I'm going to say until I get some time alone with Marshall."_

 _The officer's eyes flicked back and forth between the partners, silently assessing their body language. "I'll go get some coffee and be back in a bit."_

 _"Don't hurry." Mary hurled the words at the retreating officer's back and waited until Marshall pulled the curtain shut before curling into a ball, burying her face in her knees. She felt the bed dip as Marshall sat next to her, his arm come around her shoulders and she let out a sob as she fell into him, fisting her hands in his T-shirt. The sobs came bubbling up from somewhere deep inside and she didn't know how to stop them – or if she would ever be able to._

 _Marshall cradled her against him, running one hand through her hair, the other rubbing her upper arm. "Shh, Mer. I've got you. You're safe now. I love you. Let it out – just let it all out."_

 _His words washed over her and surrounded her like a warm blanket and Mary wanted nothing more than to pull the covers up over her head and go to sleep and wake up in the morning and have everything be fine – have this night be nothing more than a horrible nightmare. Marshall was in love with her, he had asked her to think about him as more than a friend and instead of breaking it off with Kenny so that she could do that with a clear mind, she had continued to see him. This was all her fault._

 _He pushed her roughly back from him. "The hell it is, Mary."_

 _She blinked in confusion before she realized that she had spoken those last words out loud. "Yes, it is, Marshall. If I had broken up with Kenny after you told me how you felt, none of this would have happened."_

 _"You don't know that – he might still have-" Marshall cleared his throat, his own eyes now wet with emotion. "I'm sorry, but I have to know – did he rape you?"_

 _Mary shuddered in his arms. "Almost – I blacked out for a bit and when I came to – he was inside me. I screamed and fought him, he hit me back, but I was able to stab him with a steak knife and get away before-" she swallowed and shuddered again._

 _He drew her further into his embrace. "I'm so sorry, Mer."_

 _"Why are you sorry?" her voice was muffled against his shirt._

 _"It's my job to protect you and I failed."_

 _This time she was the one to pull away and look him in the eye. "That's crazy, Doofus. You can't protect me from the big, bad world – and neither of us thought that Kenny was capable of this. I'm the one who's sorry. I should have broken up with him sooner – I should have fought harder-"_

 _Marshall cupped her good cheek. "You're talking nonsense, Sunshine. You fought like the hell cat you are – especially under the circumstances."_

 _She frowned. "What does that mean?"_

 _He took a deep breath and dropped his hand. "The doctor drew your blood and it came back positive for rohypnol – he slipped you a roofie, Mer."_

 _She swore. "No wonder my memory is a little foggy – I don't remember much after leaving his house. How did I get to you?"_

 _He shook his head. "I don't know how you drove your car but I don't think his new house is very far from mine, thank God. All I can tell you is that you somehow made it to me and I'd barely had a chance to open the door and take in your appearance before you collapsed in my arms. I brought you straight here."_

 _"So you didn't call the police?"_

 _"No – the hospital staff did that. The nurse told me that it was hospital policy and after they saw the condition you were in, they kicked me out and wouldn't let me stay with you until after you regained consciousness and told them who was responsible."_

 _She reached out and squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry they wouldn't let you stay with me – fucking idiots."_

 _"Mary, they were just following the rules. They don't know us – as far as they were concerned I could have been the one who did this to you."_

 _"You would never-"_

 _He cupped her good cheek again and changed the subject. "How are you feeling? Are you ready for the inquisition and the rape kit?"_

 _Mary startled. "They didn't already do one?"_

 _He shook his head. "They need your consent – and I wasn't about to give it, even if I am your medical next of kin."_

 _She swallowed. "Do I have to? I mean, technically he didn't-"_

 _"Mary-" Marshall's hands slid to her shoulders. "That man physically and sexually assaulted you. Just because he didn't 'finish', doesn't mean you weren't raped. Did you say no?"_

 _Mary flinched. "Repeatedly."_

 _"And did he ignore you and force himself on you?"_

 _She rolled her eyes. "Look at me, Marshall. I think my body answers that question for me."_

 _His jaw ticked. "Then we need all the physical evidence we can get to prosecute the asshole."_

* * *

 **Present Day**

 **Marshall's hospital room**

Marshall looked at Mary, his eyes wide with horror and pain at all she had revealed about the night of her sexual assault. He somehow knew she hadn't told him everything – knew that she was sticking to the bare facts. But with every word she said, he got a clearer picture of just how close their bond really was.

"Why did you come to me afterwards instead of going home?"

Mary looked up at him in surprise. "You – we're best friends, Marshall – you take care of me. Besides, I didn't want Squish, my sister, to see me like that. She's pregnant and it would have upset her."

He frowned. "And those are the only reasons?"

"Your house was close to Kenny's – I was drugged and not exactly thinking clearly at the time-"

"Mary."

"What?" she snapped, standing up and beginning to pace. "What do you want me to say?"

"The truth."

She flung her hands out in a desperate gesture. "I've told you the truth – Kenny nearly raped me that night and I got away and ran to you. You took me to the hospital and then back to your place for the night."

"I took you back to my place?" he repeated, his head cocked to the side. "Why didn't I take you home? Better still, why didn't you stay in the hospital overnight?"

Her eyes fluttered shut. "Because I hate hospitals – and so do you. They make us crazy – if you were in your right state of mind, you'd remember that. After the doctor did the rape kit, I begged to go home but he didn't want me to be alone so you said you'd take me to your place."

"Why do I think there's more to it than that?"

She gritted her teeth. "There isn't. Someone had to watch over me, wake me every couple of hours because of my slight concussion and I didn't want to scare Brandi with my appearance. I didn't want to deal with all the drama of telling her and Jinx-"

"Who's Jinx?"

Mary sighed. "My mother – she's a peach. You'll meet her soon enough. Anyway, you instinctively knew all this and volunteered to be my watchdog for the night."

"And the cop didn't have a problem with this?"

"She didn't have a choice. I refused to answer her questions until the next day after I'd gotten some sleep and the doctor backed me up, saying I needed rest. So you took me home."

Marshall let her words sink in for a minute before asking, "So if I promised to look after you, how did I get in a car accident in the middle of the night? And why am I suspected of murdering your boyfriend slash rapist?"

Mary flinched. "He was never my boyfriend – he was just someone I was dating, all right?"

His eyebrows knit together in puzzlement. "That sounds familiar – have you said that before?"

Her lips twitched in annoyance even as hope rose inside of her at the possibility that Marshall had remembered something more about their past. "No."

"Oh – so what's the answer, then?"

She took a deep breath before replying. "I'm not sure – all I know is, when I woke up around one-thirty in the morning, you weren't there and your truck was gone. I had a bad feeling that maybe you'd gone to see Kenny and so I got in my car and started to drive over there." She began to shake and Marshall held out his hand. She looked at it warily but took it. He pulled her back to sit next to him on the bed.

"You saw the accident happen?"

She nodded, the ability to speak having temporarily left her.

He pulled her against his shoulder and for a second she resisted before giving in and laying her head against him.

"I lost the two most important things in my life that night: myself and my best friend."

* * *

 _A/N: Oh, Mary. Will Marshall remember what happened in time to keep himself from being arrested and help Mary heal? Stay tuned. Reviews are LOVE._


	5. Witness

_A/N: Sorry for the delay, readers. RL has been a **. On with our story!_

* * *

 **Albuquerque Police Station**

"Thank you for coming with me, Delia."

"No, thank you for calling me, Sugar. You should never have been questioned the first time without one of us present and now that Marshall's awake-"

"He's awake?" The platinum blonde interrupted the African American Marshal sitting beside her. "But this is wonderful news! Now he can clear everything up and tell the police himself what happened that night."

Delia sighed. "I'm afraid it's not that simple. You see, there's been a development-"

"Miss Hogan?"

Both women looked up as Detective Chaffee called Sugar's name from the entrance to one of the interrogation rooms. "If you wouldn't mind stepping this way, please."

Sugar got to her feet and took a step forward, smoothing down her dress uniform self-consciously as she did so. She was aware of Delia gathering up their light jackets and preparing to follow when the Detective spoke again. "If you would wait here, Delia, I'm sure we won't be very long."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Detective."

Sugar noticed that even though the cop had used Delia's first name, Delia had not and she couldn't help but be secretly impressed. When she saw that it was Delia and not Mary who had walked into the police station in response to her call, she had to admit to a moment of disappointment. Delia was the nice one, the one who made cookies and muffins and treated everyone like a long lost relative – not that that was a bad thing. Sugar had never had a family growing up and it was nice to finally have people around who cared about her. Marshall's witnesses had been reassigned after his promotion and Mary was her inspector now and she was, well, quite different from Marshall. But how she needed that kick ass Mary today to handle this situation with the police. She wondered if Delia had enough cojones to stand up to Detective Chaffee.

"Inspector-"

"You questioned Sugar the first time without her Inspector or an attorney present-"

"She was read her rights-"

Delia continued as if Abigail hadn't spoken. "And I am here to insure that doesn't happen again. Now, you can allow me to sit in to protect my witness and her identity, or I can call the attorney we have on call and we will wait for her to arrive to begin."

Abigail stared at Delia in surprise as she had never seen this iron side of the sunny, pleasant woman before. "I wasn't aware that your office had an attorney on call."

Delia smiled. "It's one of the first changes Marshall made when he became chief. So, what's it going to be, Detective?"

Abigail gave in with grace. "After you, ladies."

* * *

 **Albuquerque General**

 **Marshall's room**

Marshall stared at the woman sitting next to him, shaking slightly on the bed, her eyes wide with grief and pain. He didn't know what to say to make her feel better and he inwardly cursed his loss of memory. He had no doubt that if he was in his 'right' mind, he would know what to do, what to say to help her. He had never felt more helpless in his life. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth.

"Mer-"

She gasped and pulled away from him. "Don't."

"What?" he frowned in confusion. "What's wrong? What did I say?"

She swallowed, desperately trying to reign in her emotions. "Don't call me that – 'Mer' – not until you remember. It hurts too much, all right?"

He nodded his agreement because he didn't want to cause her any more needless pain and tried again. "Mary – you didn't lose me, I'm right here. I know I'm not in my 'right' mind – that I can't remember myself but I don't for a second doubt our connection. I'm drawn to you – I was drawn to you the moment I opened my eyes. I can't explain it-"

"You were still conscious when I found you," Mary whispered, her voice so soft and low that he had to lean forward to catch it.

"You mean, after the accident?"

She nodded. "I got the passenger door open and crawled inside and you talked to me for a bit before-" she swallowed and dropped her eyes, unable to keep the intensity of his gaze.

"What did I say?"

"That you were sorry for leaving me – that you should have stayed with me – that you were sorry you couldn't stay with me now."

Marshall reared back in surprise. "I knew I was dying."

She nodded, as she lost the war and the tears dripped onto her lap. "Anyway, that might explain why you still feel connected to me since you were talking to me right before-"

"I died?"

She shuddered and clenched her fists. "Please, please, don't say it like that!" She got to her feet and began to pace. "You have no idea how close you came – you lost so much blood from that cut in your neck and-" she choked back the words.

He frowned as an image flashed through his mind: Mary lying on a gurney, pale and still, bleeding from her stomach, and him running down the hall trying desperately to catch up to her side. "I – you never had a close call? Didn't you almost die once?"

She whirled back to the bed and grabbed his hand. "You remember that?"

He swallowed hard. "I think so – you got shot? In the stomach?"

"Yes!" The word was lost in a laugh of relief. "Maybe I didn't lose you after all, Doofus."

* * *

"All right, Miss Hogan. I have here the statement you gave and signed on June 5th of this year. I just want to go over a few points with you again-"

"If you don't mind, Detective, I would like to take a look at that, please."

"Of course, Inspector."

Sugar bit the inside of her lip to keep from smiling. Everyone knew that Detective Chaffee and Marshall had been engaged up until three months ago and to see the forced politeness between the two women as if they were merely acquaintances was quite amusing.

"Now, Miss Hogan, if you could please state again for the record why you were out walking your dog in the early morning hours of June 2nd?"

Sugar darted a glance at Delia and waited for her nod before she answered. "I attend culinary school during the day and bartend at the Luxor in their main dining room until it closes at midnight. The only time I have to walk Sprinkles is in the early morning hours when I get home from work."

Abigail nodded. "And what happened on June 2nd?"

Sugar sighed. "Do we have to go over all this again? It's all there in my original statement. Besides, it's been over two months – my memory is bound to be a little rusty."

"Or you might remember something now that you didn't remember then, so yes, Miss Hogan, we have to go over it all again. So please, what happened on June 2nd when you were walking Sprinkles?"

Sugar glanced again at Delia who frowned and spoke up, "What are you fishing for, Abigail? Are you hoping to catch my witness in a lie to protect Marshall perhaps? We both know he's innocent – and Sugar can't say anything that will incriminate herself-"

"I'm not trying to catch Miss Hogan in a lie, Delia. I'm trying to get at the truth and catch a killer – whoever that may be." She turned back to Sugar. "What happened that night?"

Sugar blinked her dark eyes. "What night?"

Abigail sighed. "The night you found Kenny dead, June 2nd."

The dark eyes flashed. "He didn't do it."

"Just tell me what happened, Miss Hogan – exactly as you remember it."

Sugar sighed and closed her eyes, letting the memory of that night come back to her.

* * *

 _ **Two months ago – June 2**_ _ **nd**_ _ **, 1:05am**_

 _ **Street outside Kenny's house**_

" _Are you done, Sprinkles? Are you done going number two?"_

 _Sprinkles gave a short, sharp bark and Sugar opened the plastic bag and picked up her dog's poop and tied the bag shut, looping the handles over her wrist. "Good girl – now that you've done your business, let's do one more loop around the neighborhood and head for bed. I'm tired."_

 _Suddenly Sprinkles yanked hard on the leash, nearly pulling Sugar off her feet. "Sprinkles! What the-"_

 _Sprinkles wriggled free and ran down the street, barking madly with Sugar in hot pursuit, swearing at her dog to stop._

" _Relax, Sugar, it's me, Marshall."_

 _She came to an abrupt stop to see that her naughty dog had stopped at Marshall's feet and was gazing up at him adoringly._

" _Marshall? What on earth are you doing here – parked outside my house at this time of night?" Sugar clipped the leash back onto Sprinkles' collar as she felt an icy dread go down her back. "I haven't been compromised, have I?"_

 _He reached out and placed a hand on her forearm, squeezing gently. "No, you're fine, Sugar. No one knows where you are, I promise."_

 _She relaxed but then frowned. "Then what are you doing here?"_

" _I had business in the neighborhood."_

 _Sugar's eyebrows rose. "At one o'clock in the morning? Is something wrong?"_

 _He shook his head. "It's nothing for you to worry about. I took care of it."_

 _She recognized his no nonsense, case closed voice and backed off. "Ok then, I guess I'll take Sprinkles-"_

" _Hey, Marshall!"_

 _Both of them turned to see Kenny standing in the open door of his house, swaying slightly on his feet, holding a rag of some sort to his face. "We're not finished."_

 _Marshall took Sugar's elbow and steered her down the street. "Why don't you finish that walk now, hmm?"_

" _Marshall? Is that who your business was with – Kenny? He's an ass."_

 _His jaw clenched. "I know."_

" _Hey, who's the pretty lady? Bring her too!"_

 _His hand tightened on her elbow as he turned and spoke over her shoulder. "You stay away from her, Kenny! Understand?" He turned back to Sugar. "Don't accept any invitations to dinner from him, Sugar – and if he starts to bother you, I want you to let me know immediately."_

" _Marshall, what's going on?"_

" _Sugar, promise me."_

" _All right, Marshall. I promise."_

" _Good girl. Now, go finish your walk and straight to bed, hear? I'll see you later." He turned towards Kenny's house._

 _She grabbed his arm. "Marshall-"_

" _What?"_

" _Be careful – Kenny has powerful friends. I don't want you to get hurt."_

" _I'll be fine, Sugar. It's my job to protect you, not the other way around."_

" _Hey, it's not a crime for a girl to care, is it?"_

 _He grinned. "Nope."_

* * *

"And that was the last time you saw Marshall?"

"Yes." Sugar cocked her head to the side. "But I did hear him leave."

Abigail looked up from writing, her pen frozen over the page. "Excuse me?"

Sugar nodded. "His truck is a diesel, you know, so it's loud and has a very distinctive sound-"

"It could have been any diesel engine, Miss Hogan."

Sugar crossed her arms. "At one twenty in the morning in our quiet neighborhood? I don't think so."

"How do you know it was one twenty?"

"I had my phone with me – and I was worried about Marshall, OK? I was listening for his truck and when I heard it start, I looked at my phone to see what time it was."

"Did you call him?"

Sugar's arms dropped. "No, he was driving, why would I want to-" she flushed furiously as she realized the implication of the question. "Look, I don't have some schoolgirl crush on my old Inspector, all right? Marshall was the first person I've ever met who genuinely cared about me as a person – who looked past the big breasts and the Marilyn Monroe hair to see that I have a heart for animals and people. So yeah, I care about what happens to him and if that's a crime, lock me up."

Abigail was silent for a few moments as she stared at Sugar, knowing that many of Marshall's witnesses felt this same loyalty towards him.

"So, what made you check the house?"

Sugar started. "Excuse me?"

"When you came back around to your house, you didn't follow his instructions and go straight inside to bed, you checked on Kenny. Why?"

"It's there in my original statement. The door was open – so I thought I'd better check on him."

"Why? After Marshall had specifically told you to stay away from him did you feel the need to do the opposite?"

* * *

"So, I'm honestly remembering something? You were shot and almost died?"

Mary nodded. "It was a couple of years ago, before I had Norah. You've always blamed yourself for not being there to protect me, although I don't know what you could have done short of taking the bullet for me – and that's just crazy talk."

"It's my job to protect you."

Mary's throat went dry as the familiar words hit her like an electric shock. "Not anymore, it isn't. You're my boss, not my partner. And I can take care of myself."

"Why do I get the feeling we've had this conversation before?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Am I interrupting?"

Mary shot off the bed so fast that she nearly cannonballed into Scott's chest. "Scott! How the hell did you get here so fast?"

Scott Mann smiled. "I hitched a ride on our organ donor chopper – not exactly what they are intended for but, what the hell? When Dr. Fledgling called and said my big brother was awake and needed me I couldn't let grass grow under my feet."

Mary shook her head. "I'm glad to see you. Marshall, this is your younger brother, Scott."

"Nice to meet you."

Scott's left eyebrow twitched. "How extensive is the memory loss?"

"I've been having a flash here and there – but on the whole, I have no idea who I am."

"Tell me about the flashes – what are they about?"

"Mary."

This time Scott's eyebrow rose fully. "Fascinating."

Mary rolled her eyes. "You people watch way too much Star Trek."

"Guilty."

"I should go – let you guys catch up, or rather let Scott fill you in on things."

Scott turned back to Mary. "When is Dad going to get here?"

"Brandi said his flight gets in around five."

"Good, gives me a couple of hours alone with Marshall."

"Um, hello? I am still in the room. Could you both please stop talking over me?"

Mary crossed to the bed and took his hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was doing that. I used to hate when my doctors did that after my shooting and you always gave them hell for it."

"I did?"

"Yes, you did. Play nice with your brother and Dad."

"Will you come back later?"

"I need to check in with some of our – I mean work stuff," she glanced at Scott, but he was too busy checking Marshall's chart to notice her slip of the tongue. "And I really need to spend time with Norah. It's not fair to shuttle her off to Brandi constantly when she's eight months pregnant."

He nodded. "I understand."

"But I'll call you later."

"No, really, you don't have to."

She squeezed his hand. "But I want to."

He grinned. "OK then."

* * *

 _A/N: Up next, Scott fills Marshall in on their family and Papa Mann arrives. Want more? Reviews are LOVE!_


	6. Peacemaker

_A/N: For the 2 of you who are actively reading and reviewing this story - my utmost thanks! To date, this is my favorite fiction that I've written for IPS- and I honestly hope that there are more of you out there that are reading and just not letting me know what you think._

 _I'm only a couple of chapters ahead of you in writing this one - I do know what the 'endgame' looks like but many of the details are flushed out as I'm writing. So that makes it fun for you and me! This chapter is a little 'lighter' as we explore Marshall's family life. The show didn't really delve into this much. We were told that 1) he had brothers 2) he talked to his mom once a week and 3) he and his father had a complicated relationship and weren't very close (Seth is the only member of the family we got to meet in the episode 'Son of Mann'). One of the questions I always had was: "How did Marshall know French?" That question and others are answered in this chapter as I 'create' his family. Enjoy the break and we'll get back to the action in the next chapter._

* * *

 **Albuquerque Police Station**

 **Interrogation Room 2**

"Miss Hogan, do you need me to repeat the question? Why did you ignore Marshall's instructions to avoid Kenny Evans and instead enter his residence at well after midnight on the morning of June 2nd?"

Sugar looked at her manicured fingernails, the perfect picture of boredom. "And I'm beginning to wonder if you can't read, Detective. All of this is in my original statement. I paused when I saw that the door was open-"

"How far open – a crack, a couple of inches?"

Sugar looked shaken for the first time. "Wide open."

Abigail glanced at Sugar's statement. "You didn't say that the first time."

"You didn't ask me."

"Hmm," Abigail murmured as she made a notation and Sugar looked at Delia, her eyes wide in a silent, desperate plea.

Delia took her cue. "How much longer is this going to continue, Detective? Sugar needs to be at work in half an hour and I'd rather her manager not know she was late because she was being questioned by the police."

"Just a few more questions, Delia-"

"No, Abigail, we're done here. Now."

At the sound of Mary's iron voice, all three women's heads swiveled to see Mary standing in the open doorway, with a green officer dancing in the background looking embarrassed and mouthing silent apologies. Abigail waved the youth away and stood so she was eye level with Mary. "This is a private inquiry, Mary. You can't just barge in here-"

"On the contrary, Detective, I can. That's my witness you're questioning and I have every right to be here."

"Fine," Abigail bit the word out through clenched teeth, "But one of you needs to leave." She swung her gaze between Mary and Delia.

Delia gave her sunny smile. "I'm out – I've got other places to be." She passed Mary in the doorway, lowering her voice but Abigail still caught the words she spoke in Mary's ear, "Give her hell, Mer."

Mary grinned wolfishly as she shut the door behind Delia and took the empty seat beside Sugar who welcomed her with a slightly shaky smile.

"So, catch me up. What have I missed?"

* * *

 **Marshall's hospital room**

Scott had been scanning Marshall's chart in silence for ten minutes and Marshall was getting restless. "Unless there's something in there that's going to magically restore my memory, I'd really appreciate it if you'd put that down and talk to me. It's rather unnerving having a stranger who is supposed to be my brother standing over me and having no recollection of him."

Scott's head shot up. "What? Oh, sorry." He returned the clipboard to the holder at the foot of the bed. "Where do you want me to start?"

"At the beginning?" Marshall shrugged. "How about mom? I heard she's dead."

Scott started at the blunt statement.

"Sorry, I know that's harsh and Mary tells me that I was very close to her – but right now I just don't remember her," Marshall explained. "So how about we start there? Tell me about our mother."

Scott pulled a folding chair forward, turned it around and straddled it, resting his chin on his hands. "Mom was larger than life, Marshall. She was French – she came over on a student Visa in college and never went back. She met Dad and they fell in love and the rest is history as they say."

"What was her name?"

"Giselle."

Marshall waited for the name to spark something inside but there was nothing. "Was she pretty?"

Scott laughed. "Ascetically she was very pleasing to the eye, yes. She had the typical French look: dark hair and eyes, brooding, and a fiery passionate nature. She loved life and her family and her wine and her cigarettes." The laughter dimmed in his eyes. "That's what killed her in the end."

"It doesn't sound like you or I resemble her very much."

"No, you and I take after Dad, but our other brother Marc is her spitting image."

"Is he going to come see me?"

Scott sighed. "We're not – Marc is the black sheep of the family, Marshall. He didn't even come to Mom's funeral though you extended the olive branch and went to see him to extend a personal invitation – to let him know that he was wanted."

"What happened between us?"

"The rift is mostly between him and Dad – but I was an idiot when I was younger and sided with Dad instead of staying out of it like you did. You've always been the peacemaker of our family – the calm one amid all our passionate tempers." Scott held up a hand. "Don't get me wrong. I never for a minute thought you didn't feel things as deeply as the rest of us. You just got extremely good at burying your feelings down deep and waiting for what you truly wanted. Exhibit A: Mary Shannon."

Marshall flushed. "How long have I – does everyone know my feelings for her?"

Scott grinned. "Except perhaps Mary herself. I remember the first Christmas you came home after the two of you became partners. All you could talk about was her – I teased you mercilessly until Mama stopped me." He shook his head. "You were always her favorite."

"I was?"

"Oh, I know parents aren't supposed to have favorites among their children, but no one's perfect. You were Mama's pet and I was Dad's slugger."

"And that left Marc-" Marshall didn't finish the sentence.

Scott nodded. "I know – I didn't realize the implications until I was older, of course. I loved having Dad's attention when he was home and you were always with mom. I never really noticed my brother or what he was doing – I should have."

"Scott, is Marc all right?"

"Yes, Marshall, he's fine. Great, actually. He's the only one of the three of us who is married and from all I've heard, his wife is lovely."

"You haven't met her?"

"No, but you have. Marc sent you an invite to the wedding."

Marshall started. "Did I go?"

"Of course. You're the peacemaker, remember?"

* * *

"I had just asked Miss Hogan why she entered Kenny Evans' house-"

Mary snorted. "Human curiosity, maybe?"

"But Marshall had specifically told her to stay away from him."

"And do you do everything you're told, Detective? Especially by a man?"

"Why are we debating this point? All I am looking for is her motivation for-"

"It's been two months!" Sugar interrupted. "I honestly don't know why I did it, maybe I was curious, or maybe I thought it was odd that the door was wide open, or maybe Sprinkles- oh!"

"Yes, Miss Hogan?" Abigail pounced, leaning forward. "What about your dog?"

Sugar licked her lips and looked at Mary for guidance, who shrugged slightly in response. "It's nothing – I just remembered that Sprinkles wriggled free of her leash for the second time that night when I came around the corner and I caught up to her on the sidewalk in front of Kenny's house. She was whining and sniffing at a spot on the pavement, but it was dark and I couldn't see what it was. I saw the open door as I clipped the leash back onto Sprinkles' collar and thought it was odd so I decided to go see if Kenny was all right."

Abigail frowned. "None of this is in your original statement, Miss Hogan."

Sugar shifted in her seat. "That's because I didn't want to lose my dog! I've replaced the leash and collar now and she's hasn't gotten away since."

Mary spoke up. "Albuquerque has very strict laws about dogs being off leash except in certain dog parks during daytime hours. Perhaps Sugar didn't want someone to see Sprinkles and call animal control, surely you can understand that, Detective."

"I can, but it makes me wonder what else Sugar has 'forgotten' to mention. Something to protect Marshall, perhaps?"

Mary glanced at her wristwatch. "Well, you can just continue to wonder. We need to leave now if Sugar is going to get to work on time. So unless you are prepared to hold her-" Mary stood and motioned with her right hand, silently signaling Sugar to stand as well.

Abigail gave in with a forced smile. "We're done for now. But I'll be in touch, Miss Hogan."

* * *

Marshall looked over his jello at his brother. "Did Mom ever speak French to us?"

Scott laughed. "Every single day! She sang lullabies to us in her native language, taught us childhood songs and games from France, you learned how to make Madeleine cookies and croissants that were better than hers, and you are the only one of us still fluent in French."

"I am?"

"Let's see if your unconscious brain remembers something that your conscious mind has forgotten: _'Parlez-vous francias?_ '"

" _Mais oui_." Marshall's spoon clattered to his tray as Scott grinned. "Did I just answer your question in French?"

Scott nodded. "But did you understand me – what did I ask you?"

"I think you asked if I spoke French and I said yes."

"Correct."

"But – how is that possible? I don't even remember my middle name and I can speak French?"

Scott waved his hand, dismissing the question. "Completely different parts of the brain, bro. The brain is organized into compartments and though it works together, it is capable of working independently too."

Marshall grunted. "Well, I wish you would tell mine to get its act together and work as a unit, thank you very much."

"I know you don't want to hear this, but it's going to take a little time. Your brain and body suffered a severe loss of blood and as a result your vital organs shut down to minimum life support – you very nearly died, Marshall. But the fact that you are awake, alert, talking to me, and having flashes of memory is honestly more than I dared to hope for at this point."

"So I need to give myself a break?"

"Yes."

"Under normal circumstances I might be able to do that but I'm under suspicion for murder, Scott. I don't have the luxury of time."

* * *

Sugar erupted into speech as soon as they were in the car.

"Thank you so much for coming – but how did you know? Delia said that you were at the hospital with Marshall-"

Mary grimaced as she put the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. "I was – but I checked my phone and Delia had left me a message letting me know what was going on. Good thing too – not that I don't trust her to handle the situation but Abigail is desperate right now to find any loopholes or leads to bring charges against Marshall-"

"I'd never say anything that would hurt Marshall."

Mary darted a sideways glance at Sugar as she pulled out into traffic. "Not intentionally, no. But the police have ways of trapping you, or twisting what you say. You should have never given that initial statement without one of us present."

All the anxiety and fear bubbled up and tears leaked out onto Sugar's cheeks. "I know, I'm sorry. But you and Marshall were both in the hospital at the time and I honestly thought I would be helping him if I told what I knew. I mean, I knew he had nothing to do with it! I heard his truck leave – Kenny must have still been alive then."

Mary shook her head at Sugar's logic. "The problem is, Sugar, there's a scant twenty minutes between you hearing Marshall's truck engine and the recording of your nine one one call. We have no proof that it was his truck you heard – you didn't see it leave and you didn't see Kenny alive with your own eyes. Now do you see how the police and the prosecution will twist it?"

"Prosecution? Oh Mary, you don't think it will come to that, do you? You don't honestly believe that Marshall's guilty?"

"No, I don't. But what I believe and you believe doesn't matter. It's whether or not the police have enough evidence to mount a case against him – that's what matters."

Sugar shivered. "Do you think they have enough for an arrest?"

"I think it's always best to prepare for the worst – that way you can be pleasantly surprised if it doesn't happen."

"That's an awfully pessimistic way to look at the world."

Mary shook her head. "No, it's a realistic one."

* * *

Marshall could feel his presence in the room before he opened his eyes, could feel him bending over him, smoothing back a lock of his hair, and then a gravelly voice spoke.

"He still looks so pale."

Someone else laughed, and Marshall recognized the sound as his brother Scott. "What do you expect, Dad? He's been in a coma for two months. He hasn't been outside in fresh air in all that time – being here under all these fluorescent lights, I'm surprised he's not part vampire by now."

"Now's not the time to joke."

"He's going to be all right, Dad."

"How do you know that? He doesn't even remember any of us – not even the woman he loves."

"I thought he called off his wedding to Abigail-"

The gravelly voice snorted. "Shows how smart you are, Slugger. I wasn't talking about the cop."

"Then who- oh. You mean Mary. Actually, the few memory flashes that Marshall has had have all been about her."

Another snort. "Maybe there is a reason to hope after all."

 _Is this the kind of conversations they had the entire time I was unconscious?_ Marshall wondered. _Talking over my head about my love life as if they knew better than I do who I should be with?_

Marshall opened his eyes to meet the piercing gaze of an older version of himself and tried not to groan as there was only one person this man could be.

"Hey Sport, how are you feeling?"

The words echoed in his ears and suddenly he was five years old opening his eyes to see his father bending over him in concern. He could hear his mama swearing in French as she pushed his father out of the way and scooped Marshall into her arms.

" _Ah, mon tresor! What happened? Seth, didn't I tell you to be careful, eh? I told you Marshall did not want to play your barbaric American sport but would you listen to me, eh? No! And now look at his face! My poor, poor bebe!" she cooed and cupped his face._

" _It's only a black eye, 'Elle – he will have many more. He's a boy, after all. And baseball is not barbaric- right, Sport?"_

 _Marshall grunted. "I'm OK, mom, really."_

"Marshall – Marshall!"

He snapped back to the present, shaking the memory of the past away even though he wanted to stay with his mother just a little bit longer. He ignored his father and focused on his brother. "I remembered something when Dad called me Sport."

Scott leaned forward eagerly, pen poised above a notepad. "What is it?"

"I was just a little boy – I got a black eye when Dad was teaching me baseball?" Marshall voiced it as a question and looked at Seth for confirmation.

Seth smiled. "Well, I was trying to teach you how to hit a ball. You wanted to join a Pee Wee team – and your mother was horrified. Anyway, the first pitch I tossed to you hit you in the side of the face and that put an end to your baseball career. Your mother taught you badminton instead – said you couldn't get a black eye-"

"from a shuttlecock," Marshall finished softly. "I remember."

"You do?" Seth tried to keep the hope out of his voice. "Do you remember anything else?"

Marshall shook his head. "No, just the baseball incident and mom teaching me badminton. She-" he swallowed. "I can't believe she's gone."

Seth laid a hand on Marshall's shoulder. "It's been two years, Son, and I still can't believe it. She loved you very much. You were her treasure."

Marshall closed his eyes as the tears flowed for the woman who had given him life and he felt like he had found and lost all over again in a matter of moments.

* * *

 _A/N: Aw, poor Marshall. All the feels - he's beginning to feel like a yo-yo. When will he get his full memory back - and what will it take? Stay tuned. Reviews are LOVE._


	7. Safe

_A/N: Sorry for the delay, dear readers. Real life interferes yet again. Enjoy this latest chapter and everyone have a safe and Happy Thanksgiving!_

* * *

 **Mary's house**

 **2:18AM**

"NO! Don't, please. Get off me!"

"Mary, wake up – it's just a dream. You're safe now."

"GET OFF!"

"Ouch! Mary, please, wake up!"

Mary sat straight up with a gasp, her hands outstretched in front of her in a posture of defense as if to ward off another blow that was only coming in her dreams. Her eyes scanned the dark room and saw Brandi standing at the foot of the bed, rubbing the side of her face and guilt washed over her as she threw back the sweat soaked covers and scrambled to her sister's side.

"Oh, Squish. Did I hurt you?"

Brandi cradled her jaw. "I'm fine."

"Let me see."

"I said I'm fine."

"You're bleeding."

"You didn't mean it. You were asleep."

Mary bit her lip. "I – is it your lip? Please, God, tell me I didn't knock a tooth out."

Brandi shook her head. "No, just split my lip."

"Let's get some ice on it."

"I'll get the ice – you call Marshall."

"What? No. It's the middle of the night."

Brandi waddled out to the kitchen and Mary followed. "You're not going back to sleep until you do. This is how you operate and you know it. He's the only one that can keep your demons at bay-"

"When he's in his right mind, maybe! But he's not my Marshall right now – don't give me that look – you know what I mean! He's not my friend, my partner, hell not even my boss! He's a stranger with Marshall's face. I can't talk to him about the darkness-" she shivered and Brandi pulled her into a one-armed hug, keeping one hand on the ice pack against her lip.

"I love you, Mer, but he loves you in a way I can't and that is what you need right now-"

"Have you listened to a word I just said? He doesn't know who he is-"

"But being with you helps him and you, right? It's still Marshall – he's still in there somewhere and spending time with you will help him remember."

Mary shrugged. "I suppose – but it's the middle of the night. I have no doubt that Doofus is sound asleep right now-" She was interrupted by her cell phone and she swore. "Work on the other hand, never sleeps."

"Good night, sis." Brandi waddled back to her room and shut the door.

Mary answered her phone with a curt: "Shannon."

There was a pause before a whisper said, "Mary?"

She sank down on the couch. "Marshall? What's wrong? Do you know what time it is?"

He chuckled. "You never called."

"What are we, junior high students? I forgot to pass you a note between periods so you snuck out of bed in the middle of the night to call me?"

"Disappointed?"

A warmth had spread through her as soon as she had heard his voice on the other end of the line and since she didn't want to analyze it, she decided the best thing to do was change the subject. "How did things go with Scott and your Dad?"

"I remembered Mom."

"Marshall, that's great. Do you remember—"

"Don't misunderstand me, Mary. I have two specific memories of her and that's it. But it's enough to remember and miss her. It's enough for me to realize that you were right – we were close."

Mary pulled a throw blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around her. "I can't imagine what this must be like for you – you must feel like you've lost her all over again."

His gasp came over the line.

"Did I say something-"

"No, that's exactly how I felt earlier today – how did you know?"

Mary smiled. "Because I know you."

They sat for a few minutes in silence, simply enjoying being in each other's company over the phone. "So, what are you doing awake at this hour?"

"Who says I was awake?"

"Mary."

"Marshall."

"You had a nightmare, didn't you?"

"How did you-" she sighed. "Yes."

He cleared his throat. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Are you talking to anyone about it?"

"Damnit, Marshall! I said I didn't want to talk about it!"

"And I need to know that you are at least talking about it with someone."

"Why?"

"You know why."

"I'm seeing my therapist in the morning. There, happy?"

"No, but it will do."

"What do you want, Marshall? Why did you call?"

"Because I had a sixth sense that you needed me tonight. I woke up and couldn't fall back to sleep – couldn't get you off my mind. Something – our connection maybe, said that you needed me."

Mary's throat went dry. "I – I don't know what to say."

"Was I wrong?"

"I had a nightmare about Kenny just before you called – that instead of getting away, he raped me over and over," Mary's voice was shaking and she felt cold all over. "And when I woke up, I found out that I'd split Brandi's lip. She had been trying to wake me up and instead I attacked her. What kind of monster am I?"

"Listen to me, Mary. You are not a monster – you were back fighting for your life in your sleep. What happened to Brandi was an accident."

"I would never hurt her."

"She knows that – she knows how much you love her."

"I wish you were here right now," Mary closed her eyes and buried her face under the blanket. "You always make me feel so safe – that's why I ran to you that night. Because you make me feel safe."

"I am here, Mary."

"Hmm," she sighed sleepily. "Tell me about your mom – what you remembered today."

He laughed. "It's not much but all right. It all happened when my dad called me 'Sport'. Suddenly I was five years old again. . . ."

Brandi found Mary later that morning curled up on the couch under the blanket, still clutching her cell phone. On the other end, she could hear Marshall's soft snores.

"Good morning, Marshall," Brandi giggled, as she ended the call, noting that the duration time was over five hours.

* * *

 **Albuquerque Police Station**

 **9:05am**

"Chaffee!"

Abigail tossed her empty latte cup in the trash and stepped into her chief's office, noting the time on the big wall clock as she did so. "Sorry I'm late chief, but the line at Lindy's-"

"Save it, Chaffee. I'm sure you remember our ADA Stella Wilkes."

Abigail nodded at the slender blonde who was reading a file at the chief's desk. "Stella."

Stella looked up. "Detective, good morning. I was just perusing your notes from yesterday's interview with Sugar Wilson. Can you tell me why you haven't arrested Marshall Mann yet?"

"I haven't had the opportunity to question him yet."

Stella pursed her lips. "And why is that?"

"He only awoke yesterday from a two month coma and is suffering from complete amnesia. He didn't even recall his own name."

"How convenient."

Abigail choose not to rise to the bait. "I am going back to the hospital later today-"

"And if he still doesn't remember? What will be your course of action then?"

"I –" Abigail looked at her Chief for direction.

Stella nodded. "Let me help you out here, Detective. "I have not been idle while Mr. Mann has been having his extended cat nap. The grand jury has met and convened and returned with a verdict. There is enough evidence for him to be charged with Kenny Evans murder – memory loss or no. So you are going to go back to the hospital without delay and arrest Marshall Mann and advise him of his rights. If he suddenly regains his memory and wishes to make a statement, so much the better. But that will in no way impact the state moving forward in getting justice for Mr. Evans."

"But he's still in the hospital, receiving treatment – we can't just throw him in jail until his bail hearing," Abigail protested.

"Detective," Chief Cox barked. "You have been given your orders. Until Mr. Mann has been released from the hospital, I will have an officer posted to make sure he does not escape – but this is hardly your concern. Your duty is to go to the hospital and arrest Marshall Mann for murder. Understood?"

"Understood, Sir."

* * *

 **Therapist's Office**

 **9:15 AM**

"I spent so many hours by his bedside praying for him to wake up – and now he has and nothing's changed. He might as well still be asleep."

"What do you mean?"

Mary shrugged. "He's a stranger masquerading in my best friend's body. He looks at me with Marshall's eyes but the warmth, the humor, the –"

"Love?"

She squirmed on the sofa. "I was going to say affection, Doc."

"Why? What is it about the 'L' word that scares you so much?"

"Because people who say it don't really mean it."

"So Marshall didn't mean it when he said he loved you?"

Mary got up and began to pace. "How did we get off on this topic?"

"I think we were talking about what you see in Marshall's eyes-"

"And I was going to say affection, and that's what I meant. Affection – the caring and empathy he has for the witnesses in his charge and his care, the way he plays with Nora, and the way he makes me feel safe."

"Do you need someone to make you feel safe?"

Mary shivered as she dropped back onto the sofa. "I didn't used to. I used to love the danger, the rush of adrenaline as I rushed into dangerous situations, dodging the bullets and explosions. Ever since I had Nora, really ever since I got pregnant, Marshall has begged me to be more cautious but it took nearly being raped to heed that advice. Now I feel like I can't get comfortable in my own skin. I wonder if I'll ever be able to be intimate with someone again."

"Someone – or Marshall?"

Mary gasped. "I – Marshall and I are not together."

"Do you want to be?"

"How dare you ask me that – it's – I can't even – he wouldn't want me now. I'm broken."

"Mary-"

"It's the truth! Before I had commitment issues and family baggage and past relationship crap but now-" Mary buried her face in her hands. "This is all a moot point anyway. Marshall's lost in his own head somewhere without a road map and I don't know how to help him."

"Maybe you're the road map."

Mary lowered her hands and looked at the Doc like she'd lost her own marbles. "Are you crazy? I can't even sleep through the night without nightmares! And did you miss the part where I attacked my own sister last night?"

"I heard you, Mary. But perhaps by helping him you can help yourself as well."

"That's a good one – did you read that in a fortune cookie?"

"Did anyone ever tell you that you use sarcasm as a defense mechanism?"

"Only Marshall."

"Interesting."

"And that would be the Marshall version that is still asleep somewhere inside his brain, thank you very much."

"Marshall hasn't remembered anything?"

"Just a few random bits and pieces – and nothing about what I need him to remember."

"What do you need him to remember?"

"I need him to remember the night Kenny died."

"Why?"

"So he can tell the police what happened – so he can help find the real killer and then this whole nightmare will finally be over."

"Will it?"

Mary shivered and drew her knees up to her chin. "Won't it?"

"When Marshall tells the police what he knows, what really happened, you think it will be over then?"

"I think I won't have this constant fear that he'll be arrested and go to jail for Kenny's murder. I can't bear the thought of living without my best friend."

"What happens if he is arrested?"

Mary's eyes clouded over. "I don't know."

"You don't know."

She shook her head. "I can't afford to pay bail –but he can't go to jail for this! He's innocent!"

"Mary, this isn't your fault."

"Yes it is. Don't you see? I ruined his life. He fell in love with me and I broke him. Not intentionally, of course, but just by not setting him free so he could love someone else - because I wanted him for myself even though I didn't feel the same way. I was selfish and look what that selfishness cost us. A broken engagement and two careers in ruins. And you ask me if I want to be with him now? I can't – I won't go there. I broke him and now I'm broken. It's over and done."

* * *

 **Marshall's hospital room**

 **9:30 AM**

"So you and Peter?"

"Yes, but you can't tell Mary – or mom. We're still taking this one day at a time," Brandi held a finger to her lips as she arranged the daisies in the crystal vase by the window.

"Why?"

Peter frowned. "Well, you know-" he broke off and laughed uncomfortably. "No, I guess you don't, since your memory is still a little foggy."

"That's an understatement," Marshall quipped. "So, what's with all the mystery?"

"Long story short? Brandi stood me up at the altar on our wedding day."

"Peter!" Brandi cuffed him on the arm. "It sounds terrible when you say it like that!"

"Hon, I'm sorry, but it's the truth."

"You could still phrase it better. How about: 'I got scared and ran away?'"

Peter laughed. "That's better? You still left me on our wedding day-"

She kissed his cheek. "We'll talk about it later."

Marshall watched their interaction in silence. Whether or not they were taking it slow, it was obvious that the spark was still there. Peter's eyes glowed with affection and Brandi was giggly and her cheeks were flushed with love. "So, I take it the baby is yours?"

Brandi went pale and Peter's arm went around her in comfort. "Uh, no," Peter explained as he squeezed her softly. "But we're working on that too."

Brandi offered him a watery smile before turning back to Marshall. "Oh, don't feel bad, Marshall, I know you don't remember! I got pregnant in Florida, while I was away. About four months ago, you and I were at an ice cream shop here in town and we ran into Peter. He made a bit of a scene when he saw us, asking if you were the father, and you decked him."

"I did?" Marshall looked at Peter in surprise.

"Yup. Man, you have a wicked right cross." Peter massaged his jaw.

"Anyway, the manager asked us to take it outside, so we did. The three of us calmed down enough to talk and another long story short, Peter followed me home and we talked things out that night. We've been seeing each other ever since. You were the only one who knew we had started dating again."

"I can't believe I kept a secret like that from Mary."

"Once your memory comes back, you'll find that you're a great one for secrets, Marshall."

There was a knock on his open door and the three of them turned to see Abigail standing in the doorway with another officer.

"Hello, Detective," Marshall greeted her. "Come to see how I'm faring today? You won't find much improvement, I'm afraid."

"Actually, I'm here for a much more serious reason. Marshall Mann, you are hereby charged with the murder of Kenny Evans-"

"What!" Marshall, Peter, and Brandi gasped.

"You have the right to remain silent, if you give up that right anything you say can and will be-"

"Peter!" Brandi clutched her boyfriend's arm.

"I'm calling my attorney right now – you call Mary."

"You have the right to an attorney – if you cannot afford an attorney one will be provided for you-"

"Peter!"

He grabbed her upper arms and gave her a little shake. "Brandi, go now and call your sister!"

Brandi nodded dumbly and waddled from the room.

"Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?"

Marshall stared at the Detective, shock rendering him speechless.

"Marshall, do you understand?"

He nodded woodenly.

"Do you wish to make a statement at this time?"

He shook his head.

"Very well. Until you are released an officer will be posted at all times outside your door." Abigail turned on her heel and left.

Peter leaned down and whispered in Marshall's ear. "I'm calling my lawyer, Rietta Stone. Just sit tight and don't say a word until she gets here, all right?"

He nodded and watched Peter leave the room, an officer shutting the door behind him, shutting Marshall in his very own hospital prison cell.

* * *

 _A/N: Oh snap! They actually arrested Marshall! Our hero can't be guilty! Stay tuned - Reviews are LOVE!_


	8. Love

_A/N: We've officially entered the holiday season where our shows are going on hiatus and nothing's on TV. So here's another new chapter!_

* * *

 **Therapist's Office**

 **9:45 am**

"So why did Marshall break off his engagement?"

Mary squirmed on the couch. "I don't know – I'm not a mind reader."

"But the two of you are close."

"How many times do I have to tell you we're not in a relationship? Marshall and I just work together – and we're not even partners anymore, he's my boss now–"

"How was that going – Marshall's promotion?"

"You mean before Kenny's murder and Marshall's amnesia?"

The therapist nodded.

Mary's eyes fluttered shut in thought. "It was all right – awkward, at times, you know? Marshall and I had worked side by side for years and it had gotten to the point where we didn't need to speak to know what the other was thinking-"

"So you could read his mind."

Mary started. "About work matters, sure. But not about private affairs."

"So you had no idea he was in love with you."

Mary squirmed again. "I didn't say that – yes, all right - I knew. But I thought those feelings were in the past. I mean, the man's engaged – or was – and – fuck! Everything's just too complicated."

"So, when Marshall told you he loved you a week before his accident, did you believe him?"

Mary gave her therapist a look of disbelief. "Of course I believed him – why wouldn't I?"

"Because earlier you said that people who used the 'L' word didn't mean it."

Mary snorted. "I was referring to my father, Mark, even my ex-fiancé Raph – not Marshall."

The therapist made a notation on her pad. "So all of the men in your life before Marshall didn't mean it when they said they loved you."

Mary nodded.

"How do you know?"

"Because actions speak louder than words, Doc. Each and every one of those men left me – and Marshall stayed. They all lied to me and Marshall has never told me any lies."

"Have you ever lied to him?"

Mary swallowed. "What?"

"Have you lied to Marshall?"

Mary suddenly felt faint and was glad that she was sitting down as she whispered, "I'm not an open person like Marshall – it's hard for me to acknowledge how I feel- and because of my childhood, there are some pretty strong walls that Marshall has spent a decade trying to knock down. But there are still a few of them that he hasn't broken through-" She broke off and cleared her throat.

"So when Marshall told you how he felt-"

"I didn't lie to him – but I couldn't – I wasn't ready to tell him how I felt."

"So what exactly did you say?"

Mary sighed and buried her head in her hands as the memory of that afternoon washed over her.

* * *

 _ **Ten weeks ago**_

 _ **Sunshine Building**_

 _ **5pm**_

" _Hey, Chief, I'm heading out-"_

" _Mary, wait."_

 _She turned on a boot heel and nearly collided with Marshall who had scrambled out of his office chair to run after her. His hands fell to her hips to steady both of them and her startled eyes met his, noticing for the first time that his face was lined and tired._

" _What's wrong? You look like you didn't sleep a wink last night."_

 _He cleared his throat. "I didn't – well, I finally found a documentary on silkworms around 2 o'clock and –"_

" _Jeez, Doofus," Mary laughed. "That would have worked better than a sleeping pill for me. I've been so consumed with wrapping up my father's shit and you've been such a rock that I haven't – do you need to talk?"_

" _Yeah, I was hoping to catch you before now – but if you are running out the door-"_

 _Mary smiled. "I think I can spare a few minutes for the boss."_

 _Marshall's hands slipped from her hips, and she startled as she realized that she gotten used to his touch and now missed the contact._ _ **Easy, Shannon. He's engaged and you have a boyfriend, remember?**_

 _He frowned. "I don't want to talk to you as your boss, Mer. I want to talk to you as your old partner, as your best friend. Is that OK?"_

 _Her smile widened. "That's more than OK – but let's go out to the balcony. These walls have ears, you know?"_

 _He nodded and followed as she led the way to the French doors. Shutting the door behind them, he turned to see that she had perched on the edge of one of the loungers. "So, what's up?"_

 _Marshall cleared his throat. "I, uh, I don't know how to say this."_

 _Mary's face went pale. "Oh God, Marshall are you sick?"_

 _He crossed swiftly to the lounger and squatted beside it so he could look in her eyes. "No, Mer, I'm fine."_

 _She drew a deep breath. "Don't scare me like that, Doofus! I – I couldn't lose you – not now. You're my best friend, my only friend. Hell, forget friend, you're – well, you know."_

 _He nodded. "I know. And I love that. But that's the problem."_

 _Mary frowned but then she nodded in understanding. "Because you're getting married. I know – I've been monopolizing your time-"_

" _No, Mary. That's not it. You're misunderstanding me. The problem is you still see me as just a friend when I'm madly, hopelessly in love with you."_

 _Mary's breath left her as she heard the words she'd never thought she'd hear him say again. He'd said them once before, at her impromptu office engagement party to Raph – but they hadn't been said like this. The words hadn't been said with this much passion, this much conviction, this much fearlessness of not being rejected. His eyes were searching hers for an answer and she could feel the emotion welling up inside even as her vocal cords refused to work._

" _I've surprised you."_

 _She managed a small nod._

 _He sighed. "I know, I've hidden my feelings for you these past few years quite well-"_

 _Mary laughed weakly. "'Quite well?'" she repeated, her voice finally back. "Marshall, you're engaged-"_

" _No, I'm not," he interrupted her. "Abigail and I broke off our engagement a week ago."_

 _Mary startled. "Why didn't you tell me?"_

 _He grinned. "I just did."_

 _She slapped his shoulder and Marshall rocked on the balls of his feet. "I mean, why did you take so long to tell me? What happened?"_

 _He shrugged. "I couldn't pretend anymore – and Abigail didn't want to continue in a relationship that she thought was a lie."_

 _Mary flinched. "But you love her."_

" _Not like I love you."_

 _Mary stared at him for a long moment before she scrambled to her feet and pushed past him, knocking him on his ass. "I – I'm dating someone, have you forgotten that?"_

 _Marshall climbed to his feet, dusting off his dress slacks. "No, I haven't forgotten, and forgive me for saying this but you're 'always' dating someone. If I'd waited until you were free and unencumbered before I made my move, both of us would be in the nursing home."_

" _Don't say unencumbered," she snapped and Marshall gave her a wide smile._

" _You love my big words – don't pretend you don't. And trust me, my vocabulary isn't the only thing that's big, Mer."_

 _She gasped and took a step back. "You – we can't do this, Marshall. You're the boss now! This breaks some serious rules of the Marshal Service. You should know this."_

" _What do you think I've been doing for the past week?"_

 _Her mouth fell open. "You don't mean?"_

 _He nodded. "I've made phone calls and done my research. We can make a relationship work – if you want one with me, Mary Shannon."_

 _Her heart was pounding so loud she was sure he could hear it. She wiped her sweating palms on her jeans. "Marshall, I –" Her eyes shut in anguish before opening to lock gazes with him. "I meant what I said before. You're my best friend – my ONLY friend. I don't know how to – I've never looked at you – or thought of you – as anything more."_

 _He closed the distance between them slowly, watching the expression on her face to see if she would refuse his advance. When she seemed frozen to the spot but didn't back away from him and he was close enough to touch her, he lifted his hands to her face. He stroked her cheeks gently with his thumbs and felt her tremble under his touch._

" _All I need is you not to run from this, Mary. I waited ten years to tell you how I felt – I can wait a little longer for your last few walls to come down."_

 _She groaned. "Marshall-"_

" _Shh." He breathed the word against her forehead before placing his lips briefly against her skin. "Just think about it. Think about me – think about you and me and how awkward it's been ever since I got promoted and we can't work together anymore. I know you miss me as much as I miss you."_

" _And you think this could be the solution?" She shook her head slightly. "Aren't you worried that it will only make things more complicated?"_

" _Perhaps in the short term. But in the long term you and I will be a team that no one and nothing can break up – and isn't that what you want? A guarantee that I'll be by your side, always?"_

 _She snorted. "There are no guarantees in life, Marshall."_

" _The only thing that would separate us if I was your life partner would be a bullet to the heart, Mary." He kissed her forehead one last time. "So please, can you do this for me? Not run away now that I've told you how I feel and think about the idea of us together?"_

 _His nearness and the feel of his lips on her skin was making her dizzy. She reached up and wrapped her hands around his neck to steady herself. "I'll think about it."_

 _He crushed her to him in a bear hug. "That's my girl."_

* * *

"So, did you lie to him? Did you not think about the two of you together?"

Mary gave the therapist a dark look. "Do you get a bonus from the insurance company for asking stupid questions?"

"Hmm, there's that defense mechanism again. So, you did lie about something."

Mary cleared her throat. "I told you. I've never been as open as Marshall with my feelings-"

"I thought you told Marshall you'd never thought of him as more than a friend. Was that the lie? That you actually returned his feelings?"

Mary started at the words. "I don't know if I'd go so far as that – but yes, I do have strong feelings for Marshall that go beyond professional."

The therapist smiled. "How long?"

"Excuse me?"

"How long have you had these 'strong feelings'? Did you realize them when Marshall admitted his?"

Mary shook her head. "Before."

"When?"

"Fine," Mary rolled her eyes. "Marshall was shot in the chest early in our partnership – and he pulled himself up from under the car with that bullet in his chest to protect me. He nearly died before I could get him to the hospital – and I couldn't ride with him because I had to finish the job. All the way to the hospital, I couldn't stop thinking: 'What if he dies before I get there?'"

"But he pulled through."

"Yes."

"And you realized that night how you felt about him."

Mary shook her head. "No, I realized that night that I felt something more than friendship – and I've been running ever since."

"So, when Marshall said all he wanted was for you not to run from this, you felt-"

Mary jumped to her feet and began to pace. "How do you think I felt, Doc? That was seven years ago! Do you honestly think that was one isolated incident? That our lives haven't been in danger since then? That Marshall hasn't made other declarations – maybe not as overt but I saw the writing on the wall. I was just too scared to upset the apple cart – even though I knew how he felt and I knew I felt something too. And now – now it's too late. I'm broken and I've ruined him and it doesn't matter if he ever gets his memory back because he won't want me now."

"Mary-"

A chime sounded and Mary dove for her phone, holding it up for the therapist to see. "We're done."

"For today, Mary, just today."

"I don't see that we have anything left to discuss."

"Next week, same time, same place."

Mary waved a hand in acknowledgment but she was scrolling through her missed calls. "Damn it! Squish called three times. I have to go."

"Mary, is everything-"

But the blonde Marshal was already gone.

* * *

 **Marshall's hospital/prison room**

 **10:45 am**

"I have to get out of this bed!"

"Mr. Mann, you have been in a coma for two months. We've done our best to keep your limbs from atrophying in that amount of time, but you must understand that you are incredibly weak and for all intents and purposes your body will need time-"

Marshall swallowed. "Are you saying I can't walk?"

Dr. Fledgling shook his head and looked at Scott.

"No, Marshall, that's not what he's saying. But because you have been immobile for so long, it will take your body time to get back up to speed. You know how to walk, but you also have some damage to the brain and we're still learning how extensive that damage is."

"So, get me on my feet and let's find out."

"Mary told us what happened yesterday – about how you collapsed when you tried to take a step?" Scott prompted his memory.

Marshall flushed. "I just got light headed and I wasn't focused on what I was doing – I was focused on getting to Mary."

Scott nodded. "Well, you'll start PT tomorrow and you better focus on your body, big brother."

Marshall grimaced. "Kind of hard when I'm under arrest."

Dr. Fledgling grunted. "The police can't do anything until I release you and I'm not going to do that for at least a week. So they can just camp outside your door and stay out of the way until then."

Marshall collapsed against the pillow. "Thanks, Doc."

The door crashed open and Mary strode inside with Brandi waddling behind her. "I did call you, Mary! It's not my fault you had your phone set to vibrate! And don't you dare say I should have called the office. I wasn't about to interrupt you in the middle of your-"

Mary whirled and silenced her sister with a look. "All right. Thank you for trying your best to get ahold of me, Brandi. I couldn't have changed the outcome, I suppose."

Brandi leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "I'll go look for Pe- I mean the lawyer." She blushed and waddled back out the door.

"Was she about to say Peter?" Mary demanded as she crossed to Marshall's bedside.

He gave her a blank look. "Who's Peter?"

Mary rolled her eyes as Scott smirked and gave his big brother a thumbs up behind her back. "Never mind. How are you?"

Marshall grimaced. "Oh, I'm great. Dr. Fledgling just told me he's not releasing me for another week, which should make me feel better but just made me remember how much I don't like hospitals. And I'm under arrest, did you hear?"

"Yes, I met the hall monitor outside." She jerked a thumb in the direction of the door.

"Dr. Fledgling and I are going to go get you a wheelchair, Marshall," Scott interrupted. "See you later, Mary."

"Bye, Scott." She waited until the door shut before she threw her shoulder bag into the nearest chair and perched on the bed. "How are you, really?"

"Frustrated. I need to get out of here and help you find Kenny's killer."

Her eyes filled. "You let me worry about that."

"Actually, the both of you need to let me worry about that."

Mary and Marshall turned to see a petite redhead standing in the open doorway, a briefcase in one hand and a smartphone in the other. "No, Chanel, that meeting will have to be rescheduled. I'm with a new client now and it's going to be awhile. Tomorrow at 10 should be fine." She hung up and strode into the room, her four inch stiletto heels clicking on the floor. "Hello, my name is Rietta Stone – I believe Peter told you he was going to call me."

Mary's mouth fell open and she turned back to Marshall with accusing eyes. "So Peter was here – was he with Brandi?"

"I'm sorry but you'll have to ask your sister about that." Marshall's gaze swung back to Rietta. "Ms. Stone, I'm accused of murdering Kenny Evans-"

Rietta nodded. "Yes, I know. I've already swung by the courthouse and talked to my good friend Stella, the assistant ADA. She's built up quite a case against you."

Marshall's jaw ticked. "I'd assumed as much. Are you up to the challenge of defending me?"

"Marshall!" Mary hissed under her breath at him. "I know you don't remember so let me clue you in: Rietta Stone has been number two on New Mexico's top five lawyers for the past three years running."

Marshall's eyebrows rose. "Who is number one?"

Rietta gave a tight smile. "Stella."

"I see. Well, you might as well have all the facts so you know what you're getting into. Mary was dating the victim and the night he died, he sexually assaulted her. She tells me I went to see him later that night, though I have no memory of that. In fact, I have no memory of most of my life, just a few bits and pieces. Hopefully my memory will return by my trial but there is no guarantee."

Rietta was silent for a moment as she studied the pair. "You are a fifth generation US Marshal, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And you work in the witness protection branch, the most secret section of the Marshal Service that requires you to protect federal witness' identities with your own life, if necessary?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever killed someone?"

"I – I don't know – I suppose I have." He looked to Mary for confirmation.

Mary nodded. "Yes. Marshall has killed to protect his partner, witnesses in the program, and if necessary, his own life."

"But never in cold blood?"

Mary shook her head. "No, Marshall uses lethal force as a last resort and only to protect others from bodily harm."

"So if he had found you at Kenny's house, in the act of being raped, would he have been capable of killing Kenny?"

Mary shuddered. "I – I don't think I can answer that."

Marshall's hand covered hers. "You don't have to – I can. The answer is yes, Ms. Stone. If I had walked in on Mary being sexually attacked, I could and probably would have killed Kenny."

"Marshall, no!"

"In that moment," Rietta interjected softly.

Marshall nodded. "In that moment."

"But he wasn't there!" Mary defended him.

"No, he wasn't," Rietta nodded, and took a deep breath. "You two lovebirds won't make this easy for me-"

Marshall shook his head. "We're not-"

Mary squeezed his hand and he fell silent but looked at Mary in confusion.

The pause allowed Rietta to continue. "But if you want me for your lawyer, I'd like to take your case, Mr. Mann."

* * *

 _A/N: I was so happy to finally write a fix-it scene for that balcony scene in the series finale! And we met Marshall's lawyer - more of Rietta to come. Reviews are LOVE!_


	9. Revive

_A/N: And we've officially entered the void of our shows going on winter hiatus - what IS that? Isn't summer hiatus enough? Oh well, enjoy the holidays and another chapter!_

* * *

 **11:05 AM**

 **Marshall's hospital/prison room**

"I'd like to take your case, Mr. Mann."

He heard Mary's sigh of relief but Marshall squeezed her hand, another concern on his mind. "What about your fees? I'm not a wealthy man, Ms. Stone and I'm racking up quite a hospital bill-"

Rietta waved her hand. "It's been taken care of."

Marshall started. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Rietta smiled. "Money is the least of your concerns, Marshall – may I call you Marshall?"

He nodded.

"I know Stella – she wouldn't have bothered to convene a grand jury on the flimsy evidence of Sugar's eyewitness testimony alone. Now that you've hired me as your lawyer, I can get to work. My first order will be to subpoena all of Stella's records on your case so far as well as file a delay with the court for your trial date. You are in no physical condition to be making court appearances yet."

Marshall frowned. "Who is Sugar – is that a person?"

Rietta glanced at Mary in concern. "The amnesia really is affecting his entire memory, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so-"

"Don't worry – that will actually make filing a delay easier-"

Marshall whistled and both women looked at him in surprise. "Thank you. I am still in the room, ladies."

Mary flushed. "Sorry. He doesn't like it when we talk over him."

Rietta smiled. "Well, who does? Okay, lovebirds, I'm going to get going but I'll be in touch. Peter gave me your numbers and here's my card if you have any-"

The door crashed open and Peter dove into the room, wild eyed and out of breath.

Mary got to her feet, releasing Marshall's hand as she stood up. "Peter! What the hell-"

"Mary – Brandi- water broke- in labor-"

"Fuck!" Mary swore as she grabbed her shoulder bag and dug in it for her cell phone. "It's too early! Was it too much to hope for that one Shannon baby would wait for their due date?"

Marshall leaned over in bed to grasp her elbow before she could escape. "Hey, slow down. She's going to be fine, Mer. She's over thirty-six weeks-"

Mary froze in the act of punching in Jinx's cell phone number. "How do you know that?"

Marshall blinked. "I – don't know. But she is, isn't she?"

"Yes, but-"

He tugged her closer to the side of the bed. "She'll be fine then. Go to her, I'll call Jinx."

She snorted. "You want to call my mother? You don't even remember her, Marshall-"

"I remember how to make a phone call," he argued. "Now go with Peter. Your sister needs you."

Her eyes flicked between him, Rietta, and Peter. "Are you sure?"

His hand trailed down her arm and squeezed her hand before slowly releasing her fingers. "I'm sure. Once my chariot arrives, I'll get Scott to bring me up to maternity."

She leaned down and pressed a kiss on his forehead, the action surprising both of them. Jumping back out of reach before he could reel her back in, she threw her phone at him and he deftly caught it in one hand. "Speed dial 5 is her cell – thank you, Marshall," she spoke the words as she backed towards the door and when she was within reach, Peter snagged her elbow and dragged her outside.

Rietta shook her head. "The jury is going to have a field day with the two of you."

Marshall frowned. "I told you, we are not in a relationship."

"And I'm the queen of England."

Marshall couldn't keep one corner of his mouth from quirking up as he pressed the number five on Mary's phone.

* * *

 **2:30 PM**

 **Waiting room outside maternity ward**

 **Albuquerque General**

"I didn't realize you and Ms. Shannon even knew each other."

Seth looked up from the newspaper at his son. Marshall had been dozing in his wheelchair for the past half hour. He had stubbornly refused to go back to his room even though it had been three hours since Brandi's labor had started and it could be hours still before the child was born.

"Don't you think you should go back to your room, Son?"

"Don't change the subject, Dad."

Seth rustled his paper. "I wasn't aware that I was – there's nothing to tell."

Marshall had been speechless when he had finally gotten through to Mary's mother only to find that she had been at brunch with his father. He'd had no idea that the two of them were acquainted let alone friends.

"Our friendship formed while you were in your coma. Ginger has been-"

"Ginger?" Marshall frowned. "Who's Ginger?"

Seth's jaw ticked. "I really hope your memory comes back soon, Sport, because having to explain everything to you is getting old fast."

Marshall merely folded his arms and waited.

"Ginger is Mary's mother – Jinx is merely an unfortunate nickname that she was saddled with in her youth. Ginger is her given name."

"Oh – I don't know that I ever knew that."

"Of course you did – you're Mary's best friend, and when you get your head screwed on straight, you'll be more."

"Dad!" Scott exclaimed as he entered the waiting room with a tray of coffee and jello for Marshall. "I thought we agreed to stay out of Marshall's love life-"

"I never said that – you did. And we both know that Mary's the woman for him – he knows it too."

"Does she?"

Scott and Seth both turned to look at Marshall in surprise at his utterance. "Pardon?" Seth muttered around his cup of coffee.

"Does Mary know she's the one for me?"

"Well – I –" Scott cleared his throat. "I mean, you broke off your engagement with Abigail, so I just assumed – I mean, you told her how you feel, didn't you?"

Marshall shook his head. "You mean, before my accident? I can't remember but she's definitely acting like there's something between us – not like we were together but not like we weren't either. Am I making any sense?"

Scott shook his head but Seth nodded slowly. "You used to tell your mother that Mary reminded you of a wild, unbroken stallion that someone had tried to break and ride in the past – but she had broken free and was wary of human touch. She wanted it, even craved it, but because of the way she'd been treated, she was afraid to get too close again."

Marshall looked at his father in anger. "Mary is not some wild animal that I want to ride or break in! She's a flesh and blood woman with deep scars and wounds, Dad. I can't just –" He shook his head. "Whoa. Where did all that come from?"

Seth looked at Scott in triumph. "See, I knew if I pushed him about Mary it would trigger-"

"And I warned you not to push him too hard-"

"Damn it, I'm right here!" Marshall bellowed. "Were you just baiting me, Dad?"

"No, Son. You really did talk about Mary with your mother-"

"And compare her to a horse?"

Seth chuckled. "It was an analogy – or one of them other big fancy words you use. It's just the way you talk, Sport. You are the last man on earth who would see women as animals to be dominated and ridden, trust me."

Marshall rubbed his forehead, a sudden headache blooming in his temples. "I suppose that s-s-s"

He gripped the sides of his head.

Scott set down his cup of coffee and crossed to his side. "Marshall? What is it? What's wrong?"

Marshall didn't answer as the world went dark and he slipped from the wheelchair to the floor.

"Scott, what's wrong? What's happening to him?" Seth roared as he fell to his knees beside Marshall.

"Stay with him, Dad. I'm going to get the crash cart and a team."

* * *

 **5 PM**

 **Brandi's hospital room**

"Oh Squish, he's perfect."

"Yes, but did you have to have a boy?"

Brandi rolled her eyes. "I didn't really have a say in the matter, Mom."

Jinx frowned. "What do you mean? It takes two-"

"Yes, but it's the man's-"

"All right, can we not have a biology lesson with my little girl and a baby in the room?" Mary interjected softly, cradling her newborn nephew to her chest.

Brandi giggled. "What, you can swear like a sailor and I can't talk about sperm?"

"Squish!"

"Now, girls," Jinx soothed as she took her grandson from Mary's arms and began making ridiculous cooing noises at him. "We have far more important things to discuss – like exactly how long has Peter been back in the picture, young lady?"

Brandi's eyes dropped to the bedspread and her fingers plucked at it nervously. "Not that long."

"Is he the father?"

"Mom!" Mary gasped. "Leave her alone, ok? Squish is exhausted. She can tell us what she wants later, OK? For now, could you please take Norah and go let everyone in the waiting room know about Baby boy Shannon?"

Jinx's lips pressed together, desperately wanting to say more but she passed the baby back to Mary, scooped up a sleepy Norah, and left without a word.

"Whew," Mary breathed out as she perched on the edge of Brandi's bed. "I thought she'd never leave."

"Me either. And Mary? Thanks for not asking – about Peter, I mean."

"It's your life, Squish." Mary shrugged. "I've got enough on my own plate to deal with to worry about you and-"

"Mary," Brandi cut her off mid-sentence. "I know you must be curious – and a bit upset that I didn't tell you we were back together."

The baby in her arms began to fuss and Mary lifted him to her shoulder, patting his little back gently. "So you are together?"

Brandi blushed. "I think so – well, I think we're working towards that. It's hard to tell when I'm – or was, eight months pregnant and the hormones were working overtime."

"Didn't he let you know – give you some sign-"

"He told me we had time to figure things out. As for signs – well, he would hold my hand, and put his arm around me but-" she flushed. "He hasn't kissed me yet."

"And you've been back together for how long?"

"Four months, two days and-"

Mary held up a hand. "I get the idea. Wow. Let me ask you something: Do you love him?"

"I never stopped."

"You should tell him – before he gets away again."

Brandi shifted in the bed and reached out for her fussy baby. "You gonna take your own advice?"

"Excuse me?"

"You gonna tell Marshall that you love him before he gets away?"

She frowned. "Marshall isn't going anywhere – and there is so much more going on right now-"

"MARY!"

She jumped off the bed at the sound of Jinx's panicked voice coming from the open doorway. "What? What is it?" She crossed the room to stand in front of her mother, who was holding a now wide awake Norah. "Is it Marshall? Tell me."

"He collapsed – Scott and Dr. Fledgling took him to emergency surgery three hours ago-"

Mary looked back at Brandi who waved her away. "Go – we're fine, really."

"I'll be back as soon as I can-"

"Don't worry about me- just go check on Marshall."

Mary ran out the door and down the hall.

"Let us know how he is!" Jinx called after her.

* * *

 **2 AM**

 **Marshall's hospital/prison room**

Blood clots.

She shouldn't have been surprised – and on some level, she wasn't. What she was feeling more than anything was anger – at him, at herself. Yesterday during their conversation when he had stupidly tried to get out of bed to comfort her, multiple clots had broken free in his legs and one of them had travelled to his brain. It had taken the quick action and response of both Drs. Mann and Fledgling to save his life and now here she was, right back in the same uncomfortable plastic chair pulled up to his bedside that she had spent the past two months in, praying for him to open his eyes. The hall monitor was still outside and it took everything in her not to scream and tell him to where to go. After all, Marshall was back in a coma – did the APD really think he was a flight risk?

Mary buried her face in her hands even as she felt a warm, gnarled one fall on her shoulder. "My son wouldn't be happy if he knew you were losing sleep over him. Go home, Mary."

She looked up into Seth's face. "I can't – if he wakes up and I'm not here – or if he-"

"You're exhausted. You're of no use to anyone if-"

"Mary-" Marshall whispered.

She gasped and turned back towards the bed. Marshall's eyes were still closed, but his eyes were moving underneath the lids and his fingers were twitching.

"Marshall, I'm here," she whispered, grabbing his hand in hers and squeezing. "Can you hear me?"

"Hm – Mer."

She laughed in relief as her tears spilled down her cheeks. "Yes, I'm here."

Seth squeezed her shoulders. "I'll go get Scott or Dr. F."

She waited until they were alone and then she put her mouth to his ear. "Come on, Marshall. It's time to wake up now. Brandi had her baby this afternoon, a bouncing baby boy – and she won't tell any of us his name until you're awake. So you see, you just can't take another two month long catnap."

"Two months?" he croaked as he opened his eyes. "I was out for two months?"

She smiled. "I know, your memory is a little foggy."

He frowned. "Why – why am I in the hospital?"

Her heart sank. Not again – she had to explain this to him again? Taking a deep breath, she whispered. "You were in car accident, Marshall, and were in a coma for two months – but you woke up yesterday. Do you remember that?"

He shook his head, still staring at the ceiling. "The last thing I can clearly remember is breaking off my engagement to Abigail. Then – it's a little fuzzy."

Her pulse began to quicken. "You remember that?"

He nodded and angled his head so that their eyes locked. Her breath left her body as she realized that this was **her** Marshall looking back at her: her best friend, her partner, the man she loved.

She lifted a trembling hand to his cheek. "You're back."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "I left? I don't remember going anywhere, Sunshine."

She nodded. "When you woke up yesterday, you didn't remember your name, your life, anything. You didn't remember-" she swallowed, too overcome by emotion to finish.

"You?" he whispered. "I didn't remember us?"

"There is no us," she shook her head softly and tried to remove her hand but he snagged her fingers and pressed them to his lips. The touch of his lips sparked an electric charge up her arm and she flushed.

"The hell there isn't, Mer," he growled. "There has always been an 'us' – and don't you forget it."

Mary felt her last wall crumbling as she wrenched her hand free and lowered her head to his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "I missed you so much," she whispered, lifting her hands to fist his hospital gown in her fingers, her voice breaking on a hiccup. "I know you don't understand-" hiccup. "That you were asleep-" hiccup. "And you don't remember-" hiccup. "-not remembering-" hiccup. "But it was awful. You weren't you." She shuddered against him.

He cradled the back of her head, smoothing her hair back, making hushing noises. "I'm here, Mer. You know I would never willingly leave you. The only thing that would separate us-"

"Don't!" she cried, sitting up and pulling away from him. She slapped a hand over his mouth. "Don't say it, please. Not now. Not in light of everything that's happened and is happening."

He frowned. "Mary, what is it? What have I missed? What aren't you telling me?"

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry and so the sound that came out of her was a mix of the two. "So much, Doofus. You've missed so much."

He tugged on her arms until she gave in and laid her cheek back on his chest, over his heart. "Well, whatever it is, now that I'm 'back', we can face it together."

* * *

 _A/N: Yay! Marshall is back! But he doesn't remember what happened the night Kenny died - what will it take to jog his memory - or will he never remember? Stay tuned. Reviews are LOVE._


	10. Hostile Witness

_A/N: Now that Marshall has his memory back, for the most part, it's time to get on with the story - so we've jumped ahead in time to the trial. Happy holidays, dear readers, and I'll see you back in the New Year._

* * *

 **6 Weeks Later**

 **Courthouse**

 **4:30 PM**

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury," Stella braced her arms on the rail of the jury box as she took a moment to look each and every jury member in the eye. "We are here because the defendant, Marshall Mann," here she paused to look over her shoulder at the defense table, "is accused of the most heinous crime in our country: murder in the first degree. Now, I know that some of you are going to be able to sympathize with him as the details of this case are revealed. The victim, Kenneth Evans, was not a nice man. He was an alleged wife beater, had a long history of petty thefts and DUI's, and on the night he himself was killed, physically assaulted and attempted to rape a US Marshal whom he was currently dating." Stella paused and again took stock of the jury. "But whatever sort of morals or ethics Mr. Evans practiced in his personal life, he had the same rights as every American citizen. And no matter how disgusting and degrading you or I may think Mr. Evans as a person may have been, he still had the right to live his life and not have it taken away by another.

"We will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that on the night of June second, Marshall Mann did with knowledge and forethought go to the home of Kenneth Evans in order to kill him for sexually assaulting Mary Shannon, his ex-partner and the woman he himself has been in love with for years. We have eye witness testimony that places him at the scene of the crime as well as physical evidence that shows he is the only person that could have committed this crime. So as a representative of the State of New Mexico, I ask you to carefully listen to the evidence presented, and if you find that the state has proven its case beyond a shadow of a doubt, to return a verdict of guilty."

Stella's heels clicked sharply on the floor and she shot a smile of triumph at Rietta as she regained her seat behind the prosecution table.

"I can see why she's number one," Marshall muttered under his breath to Rietta's assistant, Chanel, who grinned.

"You haven't seen the boss lady in action yet."

Rietta stood and took her time coming out from behind the table, smoothing invisible wrinkles on her dress slacks. She approached the jury box slowly, taking a silent tally of the members: seven women and five men. All of them were still employed – that was unique. Most juries these days had at least a few retirees on it, but not this panel. In fact the youngest member, number eleven, was a college student, with a fresh face full of acne. She cocked her head to the side, wondering what that pimply-faced youth knew of attempted rape and witness protection.

"Ms. Stone?" Judge Carlson spoke from the bench. "Can we get on with it? The hour is getting late."

"Sorry, Your Honor." Rietta licked her lips and turned back to the jury box. "Ladies and Gentlemen, first and foremost, I'd like to thank you for your service. I've been where you are and I know it's not easy to give up a paying job to sit in a jury box listening to us boring lawyers drone on and on and actually pay attention to what we're saying."

One or two of the jurors smiled at her as Stella jumped to her feet. "Your Honor, this is a highly unorthodox opening statement-"

Rietta waved the words away like she was swatting a fly. "Sorry, Stella. I'll get to the point. Yes, my client, Marshall Mann, is accused of murder and the prosecutor over there is going to try and make a case for passion and fury that culminated in the victim, Kenneth Evans, ending up dead. She is going to try and convince you that Marshall Mann, having been trained to use lethal force in his job as a US Marshal, when confronted with a bloodied and bruised ex-partner, lost his head and killed a man in cold blood. She is going to try and convince you that the evidence points to Marshall and Marshall alone – that no one else had means or motive or opportunity to commit this crime.

"But I am urging you to keep an open mind and listen to the evidence – or the lack thereof. Where's the murder weapon? What about the twenty minute time gap between the time Marshall's truck was heard to leave the neighborhood and the nine one one call? What about the physical evidence that Kenneth had sexual intercourse with another woman besides Mary Shannon that evening?

"These are questions that the state does not have answers for and therefore cannot prove my client's guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt. And if you have doubts, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you must return a verdict of not guilty."

* * *

 **Marshall's house**

 **6:30 PM**

"I think it's a tie – you should both be number one."

Rietta smiled as she clinked the neck of her beer bottle against Marshall's. "Aren't you a charmer? Now, are you ready for tomorrow, Mary?"

Mary looked up from peeling the label from her own bottle and shrugged. "As much as I can be."

"Do you think Stella will call her first?" Marshall asked softly.

Rietta shook her head. "No, her first witness will probably be Detective Chaffee and the coroner – which will most likely take the morning. Mary should be up right after lunch."

She swallowed. "I guess I'm fasting tomorrow."

Marshall's jaw clenched and Rietta's eyes flicked back and forth between the two. "I'll give the two of you some privacy and go see what's keeping our pizzas."

He reached across the tabletop and grasped her hands in his, stopping her nervous peeling. "Mary, stop and look at me."

She shook her head and kept her gaze averted. "I don't want to talk about it, Marshall. It's bad enough that I have to relive the whole night tomorrow for the record, in front of fifty or so strangers but-" she swallowed. "Please, can we just for one night act like everything's not falling down around our ears?"

He chuckled. "That's kind of hard to do when my lawyer's in the next room and I'm on trial for murder one-"

"Don't." Her eyes fell shut. "I should just go." She tried to pull her hands free but he held on tight.

"Why?"

"Because I've done enough damage- I've already ruined your career-"

"Stop it." His voice was sharp and she flinched. His fingers caressed the back of her left hand. "I love you, Mary Shannon, and the only way you can ruin me is if you run from this, from us."

She sighed. "You'd be better off without me. With a woman who isn't-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," he growled as he pulled her to her feet, into the solid wall of his chest. "You are the strongest woman I've ever known – and not even retelling the events of that night tomorrow in court, on the record, in front of fifty strangers, is going to break you."

She licked her lips, resting her head against him for a moment before pulling back to meet his eyes. "But what if my testimony hurts you? I'd never forgive myself if it was something I said that Stella twists and uses against you and the jury finds you guilty."

He breathed a kiss against her forehead. "Do you think I killed him?"

She took a step back from him in shock. "No."

"Honestly? It's just you and me here – you can tell me the truth-"

She lifted her hands and cupped his face. "No, Marshall. You aren't capable of murder. As angry as you were, and are, that Kenny sexually assaulted me – there's no way you could lose control to the point that you'd take his life."

"What if he pushed me into it? If we were in a fist fight and words were exchanged and in the heat of the moment-" Marshall paused, letting the words hang in the air between them.

Mary cocked her head to the side, thinking for a moment before speaking again. "My answer is still the same. You have a code. We protect people for a living, Marshall – and we both know that some of those people don't deserve it. Some of them are criminals – lowlifes, the nastiest scum of the earth that I'd love to send to the bottom of the sea but it's you that holds me back – because killing is wrong."

He knocked her hands out of the way and pulled her into his arms, holding her so tight that the air left her lungs in a rush. "Maybe you're right, Mer. But I don't know what I would have done if I'd found him the act of raping you. I think my code would have taken a flying leap."

She chuckled against his shirt front. "Then I'm glad you weren't there."

He shoved her back. "What the hell? You're glad I wasn't there to save you?"

She lifted her fingers and placed them over his mouth. "Hush. Don't misunderstand me. I wanted you – I prayed that you would come rescue me, but in the end I still got away, didn't I?"

He shook his head, his eyes blurry with tears. "Not soon enough. I've seen the pictures – he hurt you, inside and out."

"But it was you I ran to and it was you that got me help and made me feel safe and bandaged the hurts. It was you that held me until I fell asleep-"

"And then crept out of bed in the middle of the night to – what? Beat some sense into your attacker?"

"Probably." She shrugged. "You always wanted to be my knight in shining armor – but I'm not a damsel in distress, Marshall. I never was. I can fight my own battles."

He reached out and captured a hand, linking their fingers together. "But you don't have to do that anymore, remember? You have me now."

 _For how long?_ She gave him a small smile. "It's hard to remember that when I've spent my whole lifetime fighting demons alone."

"Did someone order pizza?"

The partners jumped apart to see Stan grinning at them from the kitchen doorway.

"Sorry, kids, didn't mean to interrupt."

"You didn't, Chief. I was just leaving."

"Mary, wait-"

She shook her head. "I have to get home, Marshall. Brandi needs some relief – she's been home all day with your namesake and Norah, remember?"

Marshall grinned. "How is Peter Marshall?"

She snorted. "I'm surprised he doesn't weigh fifty pounds – all he does is eat! But he's a good baby, hardly fusses at all."

"Well, the books do say that the second baby is easier."

"What are you talking about, Doofus? Pete is Brandi's first child-"

"But he's the second Shannon grandchild-"

"That's doesn't count-"

"It so does-"

"Does not!"

Stan put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Mary and Marshall fell silent and looked at him with wide eyed expressions. "Thank you. Now that I have your attention – Marshall, your lawyer wanted to see you as soon as you had finished up in here and since Mary said she was leaving-"

Mary nodded and grabbed her bag. "See you tomorrow, boys."

Marshall grabbed her elbow. "Remember what I said, Mary."

"Which part?"

"All of it: you're stuck with me now." He leaned in close and breathed the words in her ear. "I love you."

"Hey, lovebirds!" Rietta yelled from the other room. "You about done? I need Marshall for a few minutes.

Mary flushed and pulled away. "Good night, Marshall."

"Sweet dreams, Sunshine."

* * *

 **1:30 PM**

 **Courthouse**

"Please state your name for the record."

"Mary Elizabeth Shannon."

"Be seated."

Mary sat down on the witness stand and fixed her eyes straight ahead knowing that if she looked at Marshall, her heart would be in her eyes, and she didn't want anyone to see any weakness in her. But if she looked at Stella right away, she would be sending looks that just might kill and she didn't want the jury to have that first impression of her.

"Ms. Shannon, you work as a US Marshal for the government, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And which branch do you specifically work for?"

Mary shook her head. "I don't see how that's relevant to this case."

"Come, Ms. Shannon, I know you're a hostile witness. But it's a simple question: what section of the US Marshal Service do you work for?"

"I decline to answer."

Stella frowned. "You're invoking your fifth amendment rights?"

Mary nodded. "Yes."

Judge Carlson leaned over and spoke into his mic. "Move on, Stella."

"Yes, Your Honor. Ms. Shannon, how many years were you partners with the defendant, Marshall Mann?"

"Ten years."

"So from 2003 to earlier this year, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Would it be a fair statement to say that the two of you grew close in that time?"

"We worked long hours and many cases together."

"So the two of you are close?"

"We're friends."

"Just friends?"

"Yes."

"Ms. Shannon, were you aware that your ex-partner is in love with you?"

Murmurings came from the galley at this question and the judge had to bang his gavel for order. Stella asked if she needed to repeat the question.

Mary shook her head. "Yes, I was aware."

Stella looked surprised that Mary had answered her question but she recovered quickly. "And are the two of you in a relationship?"

 _Careful, she's fishing._

Rietta was on her feet, objecting to the whole line of questioning.

"It goes to motive, Your Honor."

Judge Carlson frowned. "I'll allow it for now, but move it along, Counselor."

"Of course. Mary, are you in a romantic relationship with Marshall Mann?"

Mary licked her lips. "No."

"I remind you that you are under oath."

Mary bristled. "We are just friends."

Stella appeared ready to argue that statement but then switched tracks. "Let's talk about the night of June first. Do you remember that evening?"

"Yes."

"Can you tell the court what happened?"

Mary didn't dare look at Marshall now – not if she wanted to get through this. "I had a date with the victim, Kenny Evans, at his new house after I got off work. But my job doesn't have the usual nine to five hours – I often have to work late or stop for dinner and then go back to work afterwards, like I did that night."

"What was Kenny's reaction to your news that you had to go back to work?"

"He wasn't happy about it – he wanted me to stay, he tried to convince me – he gave me a tour of the house and when we were in the bedroom he started to kiss my neck and unbutton my blouse. I told him I wanted to take things slow and he seemed all right with my answer – at least, I thought so at the time," Mary swallowed hard, her eyes drifting shut.

"I know this is hard, Ms. Shannon, but I need you to tell the jury what happened next."

"We had dinner and I began to feel a little dizzy even though I'd only had a couple sips of my wine since I knew I was going back to work. When I stood up to leave, I collapsed and Kenny – Kenny was on top of me immediately, peeling off my clothes, telling me to relax, that I would enjoy it-" Mary cleared her throat, her eyes swimming at the memory.

"Go on, Ms. Shannon."

"I screamed at him to stop, tried to get him off me, but he laughed and slapped me when I did manage to kick him in the nuts. He hit me some more and I must have blacked out for a bit because the next thing I knew he was inside of me, moving and thrusting and-" she stopped. "Do I have to go on?"

"I think the jury gets the idea. How did you get away?"

"I stabbed him in the shoulder with a steak knife – I believe the coroner mentioned that superficial wound in his report. But it was enough for me to get away."

"And you ran straight to Marshall."

"I had a very pregnant sister at home that I didn't want to scare – and Marshall's house was closer."

"What happened after you got to Marshall's house?"

"I – I don't know, I blacked out completely that time. I woke up at the hospital, confused and disoriented. They ran a rape kit and then released me into Marshall's care. He took me home."

"To your house?"

"No. Again, I didn't want to scare my sister. He took me home with him."

"What happened then, Ms. Shannon?"

Mary gritted her teeth. She knew this was the dangerous ground, that this was what Stella was really fishing for. "Marshall made me something to eat and I took a shower. I tried to eat, but wasn't hungry, then I went to sleep."

"And where was Marshall during this time?"

"I don't know – I was asleep."

"Was he there when you woke up?"

Mary's eyes darted to Marshall's for the first time, her eyes communicating with him silently before she answered. "No."

"What did you do then, Ms. Shannon? Did you go back to sleep or did you go looking for him?"

"I got up and looked around but he wasn't there."

"Did you check outside to see if his truck was there?"

"Yes."

"Was it?"

"No."

"So what did you do, Ms. Shannon?"

"I called him."

"Did he answer?"

"No."

"So what did you do, Ms. Shannon?"

"I got in my car and drove."

"Drove where?"

"Around."

"You wake up in the middle of the night and find your partner gone the same night you're sexually assaulted and you expect this court to believe you just went for a drive?"

Mary remained silent.

"Where did you go?"

No answer.

"Where did you go, Ms. Shannon?"

Silence.

"Your Honor-"

"Answer the question, Ms. Shannon," Judge Carlson ordered.

"I drove over to Kenny's-"

The galley erupted in murmurs and the gavel came down again ordering silence.

"Did you find Marshall on your way over there, Ms. Shannon?"

She shuddered. "Yes, but-"

Stella held up a hand. "Thank you, Ms. Shannon. No further questions, Your Honor."

* * *

 _A/N: Reviews are LOVE - and all I want for Christmas!_


	11. Bleeding

_A/N: Happy New Year! Wouldn't it be nice if we had new episodes of IPS in 2016? But alas, we must be content with our fanfiction - because let's be honest, the ending was FAR from satisfying! And now, on with the story. . . ._

* * *

"No more questions, Your Honor. Your witness, Ms. Stone."

Rietta got to her feet and came around the table, passing Stella on the way, and barely resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at her. The action would not have made a favorable impression on Judge Carlson, though it would have lightened the mood and given the jury something to chuckle about.

"Ms. Shannon – may I call you Mary?"

Mary gave a slight nod.

"Thank you, Mary. When you woke up and discovered that Marshall wasn't in the house and his truck was gone, did you know where he had gone?"

"Objection, Your Honor!" Stella cried, jumping to her feet. "She's asking the witness to read Mr. Mann's mind-"

"Something she's no doubt done many times over the course of their partnership, Your Honor-"

"Enough!" Judge Carlson barked. "Rephrase the question, Ms. Stone."

"Of course, Your Honor." She turned back to the witness stand with a slight smile. "I believe that you tried to contact Marshall on his cell phone?"

"Yes, it went straight to voicemail."

"Which you took to mean-?"

"It could have been turned off – but Marshall never turns his phone off due to the nature of our jobs. So the more likely reasons were that he was on the phone talking to someone or his phone battery had died."

"So how did you know where to go?"

Mary didn't dare look at Marshall as she answered, "Because I know him – you can't be partners with someone for ten years without anticipating their next move, knowing what they're going to do before they do it."

"So you knew when you woke up and he was gone that Marshall had gone to see Kenny."

Mary licked her lips. "Yes."

"So. You got in your car and drove over there – I'm sorry, did you say you made it all the way back to Kenny's house?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Mary's eyes fell shut. In some ways this was worse than reliving her assault – Rietta was taking her back to the scene of the accident – asking her to tell about finding Marshall, asking her to tell the court what-

"Mary? Are you all right?"

Her eyes flew open to see Rietta leaning towards her and over her shoulder she could see Marshall's face, etched with worry and love. She quickly averted her gaze. She couldn't look at him – not now, not if she wanted to get through this.

"I'm sorry, Mary, but the court needs to know. Where did you find Marshall that night?"

"At a stop light approximately two miles from Kenny's house – I was at the top of the hill and he was waiting at the light at the bottom," she cleared her throat. "The signal changed and another truck ran the red, hitting Marshall's in the intersection-" her voice broke as a tear splashed down her cheek.

Rietta's eyes were soft. "What did you do, Mary?"

Mary spoke on autopilot, trying hard to keep her emotions out of it. "I sped down the hill, dialing nine one one as I did. When I reached the scene, I got out and - I didn't want to, but I checked on the other driver first. He wasn't wearing a seat belt and his head had gone through the windshield-" there were gasps from the galley and Judge Carlson banged his gavel a couple of times.

Rietta waited for the murmurs to die down before she asked: "Was he dead?"

"Yes. I ran to the passenger side of Marshall's truck and climbed inside – he was coming in and out of consciousness. A large piece of glass from the windshield had pierced his neck and there was a lot of blood. I wanted to pull it out – but I'd had enough first aid training to know not to do that-" Mary fell silent, lost in the memories of that night.

"Mary, I know this is hard but I need you to focus on his hands for me. What did they look like?"

Mary blinked back the tears. "I – his hands were fine – the knuckles were a bit scraped and swollen, like he'd been in a recent fistfight, but I didn't give it much thought at the time."

Rietta nodded. "Did you see a gun in the car?"

"No," Mary shook her head. "Not in the car or on his person. Marshall didn't wear his gun when he was off duty."

"You said he was coming in and out of consciousness. Did he speak to you?"

Mary swallowed. "Yes."

"Did he confess to murdering Kenny Evans?"

Mary reared back in surprise. The two of them hadn't covered this in their pre-trial prep. Rietta was going off script and Mary wondered why – and how much she should divulge. This was very dangerous ground. "No!"

"What did Marshall say to you?"

Mary licked her lips. "He apologized for leaving me – said he never should have left, that confronting Kenny could have waited another day or two. And that he was sorry that he had to leave me and Norah now-" her throat constricted with emotion and she stopped to clear it.

Rietta picked up the unspoken words. "Marshall thought he was dying in that truck, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"And so, his last words to you were an apology of regret for leaving your side – and not a confession of guilt for murder, is that correct?"

"Objection, Your Honor!" Stella interrupted. "Ms. Stone is testifying and putting words in her client's mouth-"

Rietta held up her hand. "I withdraw my question, Your Honor." She winked at Mary. "No more questions."

* * *

 **Mary's house – 9 PM**

Peter jerked the door open before the second knock had a chance to fall. "Shh," he held a finger to his lips. "The babies are asleep and Brandi's passed out on the couch – I don't want anything to wake her."

Marshall flushed. "I'm sorry, man, but I need to see Mary."

Peter held his ground. "She's asked to be left alone-"

Marshall clapped a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Well, that doesn't mean me-" as he sidestepped into the house.

Peter stepped in front of him blocking his path. "Actually, it does. She specifically said she doesn't want to see you right now."

Marshall's brow furrowed. "Why?"

Peter ran a hand down his face. "Look, I'm saying more than I should here, but I know how tenacious you can be when it comes to Mary so I know you won't be satisfied with a pat answer. She needs some time and space after court today, all right? You were there – she had to relive not only her assault but your accident-"

Marshall backed up until he could brace himself against the wall. "I had no idea she was a witness to that-"

Peter frowned. "I thought she told you-"

"What, when? I don't remember."

Peter waved Marshall's words away. "Anyway, right after court, she had an emergency session with her therapist and then she came home and locked herself in her room with Norah, telling us she didn't want to see or talk to anyone, especially you."

"I need to see her, Peter. Don't try and stop me."

"Or what?"

"Let him go, Peter," Brandi's sleepy voice came from the living room. "My sister needs to stop running from Marshall."

Marshall shot Peter a look of triumph as he entered the living room and crouched by the sofa. "I'm sorry, Bee. I didn't mean to wake you." He brushed back wisps of her sandy hair, feeling pangs of guilt for the dark smudges under her eyes.

"Don't," she shook her head. "I'm tired because PM has a touch of colic – but he's sleeping now."

"And so should you," he leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

"Go talk some sense into my sister," Brandi mumbled sleepily into her pillow. "She loves you."

Marshall chuckled and was saved from replying as Brandi began to snore softly. He looked up to see Peter glowering from the end of the sofa.

"What's your problem, Peter? You know I love Brandi like a sister – Mary's the one that has my heart."

Peter relaxed. "I know that – it's just – I never thought I'd get a second chance with her, you know?"

Marshall nodded.

"But I'm no saint, Marshall. There's still a part of me that's hurt and angry that she left me the way she did instead of talking to me about her fears-"

Marshall grinned. "That's not the way Shannon women operate, Peter. They react and run. We have to chase and catch them – then we can talk to them."

"Don't you ever get tired of the chase?"

"Not when the prize is Mary Shannon."

Peter sighed and sat down on the coffee table and studied the sleeping visage of Brandi. "It doesn't make the pain go away-"

Marshall looked down the hall towards Mary's locked door – the one that kept him and the rest of the world out. "No, it doesn't."

Peter looked up and followed Marshall's gaze before dropping back to Brandi's face. "So, tell me, Marshall, is it worth it? Fighting through all their walls and fears and running after them to bring them back to start at square one over and over again?"

"Only you can answer that, my friend."

* * *

"Open the door, Mer."

"Go away, Marshall. I left explicit instructions that I didn't want to see anyone, especially you-"

"Do you think that I won't hesitate to break this door down just because children are sleeping? Then you won't have any privacy-"

There was a click as the lock was disengaged. "You bastard-" she hissed as she threw open the door. "What part of 'I don't want to be disturbed' don't you understand?"

He backed her into the room, shutting the door behind him, as he drew her into his arms.

"Let me go." She struggled and flailed in his arms, her hands curling into his fists and beating his chest.

"Never."

Her fists stilled and she tried to appeal to his sense of reason. "Marshall, members of the press follow you twenty four seven. I have no doubt that right now my house is surrounded by newshounds, waiting to get pictures of us in compromising situations-"

He laughed. "Well, that's not going to happen!"

"And I can just see tomorrow's headline: 'US Marshal on trial for murder spends night with girlfriend'."

"You're not my girlfriend – well, not yet, anyway."

She hit him in the chest, hard. "Not ever! You're not listening to me: you have to leave, now. We can't be seen together – not now, don't you understand?"

"And I'm not leaving you alone – not after today. My God, Mer, I had no idea." He lifted his hands and cupped her face. "I've always known you were strong but-"

"Don't," she shook her head. "Please."

"You were sexually assaulted and then hours later were the only witness to my accident – an accident that I nearly died from-"

She threw herself out of his embrace. "I said don't! I can't –" she was shaking from head to foot and it was breaking his heart to see it. "It was bad enough talking about it in open court but I can't – not with you, all right? Not with you looking at me like that –"

"Like what, Mer?" he whispered, taking a step towards her.

She held up a hand, backing away from him. "I knew exactly what you'd want to do if and when you came over here, Marshall Mann, and I can't, all right? My energy reserves are on empty and I have nothing left to give. All I want to do is crawl into my bed and sleep for the next forty eight hours. But I can't do that because every time I close my eyes, I'm back in that truck with you, and you're bleeding and telling me-"

"What, Mer? What am I telling you?"

Her arms were wrapped around herself and she was rocking back and forth in an attempt not to fly apart. "That you're sorry you have to leave me – that you're sorry we can't have a life together-"

He took two steps toward her. "Mary-"

She backed away again. "NO! You need to go because if you touch me right now, I'll – I'll-" she turned away from him and slumped to the floor. He was there in an instant, wrapping himself around her, molding his body to hers, crooning nonsense words of comfort in her ear, as the storm broke. Sobs deep and painful racked her body and she shook like a young tree in the wind and he held her tighter, whispering his love and reassurance that he was still there with her.

* * *

Marshall watched her chest rise and fall with each breath, glad for the moment she was sleeping peacefully. The two of them had stayed on the floor until the worst of her storm had passed and then he had swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. But when he had tried to stand up, her fingers dug like talons into his forearms.

"Shh, love. I'm just getting a wet cloth for your eyes. I'll be right back, I promise."

She had released him reluctantly and when he returned had latched onto him with the fierceness of a lioness with her mate. He chuckled as he placed the cool cloth over her eyes and settled on top of the mattress with her, knowing that for the moment her guard was completely down but being a smart man, he knew it wouldn't last. And it didn't. As soon as she began to drift, she rolled away from him and he got up to exchange the cloth for a fresh one.

He must have dozed off himself because he had no idea what time it was when he opened his eyes – the room was completely dark and still. Glancing at Norah's play pen, he saw that it was empty and he panicked until he remembered that Brandi and Peter were in the house. One of them had most likely crept in and taken her while they slept. The fact that he hadn't woken up showed how exhausted and in need of sleep he himself had been.

Mary stiffened next to him on the bed. "Marshall?" she croaked, her hand coming up to lift the cloth off her eyes. "Are you-"

"Right here."

She rolled to her back and her eyes met his in the darkness. "You stayed. I thought-"

"What? That I'd leave? Or that it had been a dream?"

She shook her head. "No, my puffy eyes and the raging headache are a dead giveaway that it wasn't a dream." She lifted a hand to her temples but he stopped her.

"Let me."

Her eyes widened. "I don't think-"

"Mary, stop thinking so much. Here," he patted his lap.

She rolled until her head was in his lap, her feet dangling off the side of bed. His fingers began a gentle massage on her temples, and her eyes fluttered shut as her mouth fell open in relaxation.

"Feel good?"

"Hmm, yes."

"I'm glad."

For several minutes, neither of them spoke as Marshall continued to massage Mary's temples as she drifted in the state between consciousness and sleep.

"Where did you learn how to do this?" she finally murmured sleepily.

He smiled in the darkness. "My mama had severe migraines and medication would take the edge off but what helped the most was lying in a dark room, no noise, and me massaging her temples."

Mary's eyes opened. "You miss her terribly."

"I do. She was my best friend, before I met you. The only other woman to understand me."

"What about Abigail?"

His fingers stilled and Mary could have cut out her tongue. "I'm sorry, Marshall, that was – please just forget I-" she started to sit up but his hands on the sides of her head stopped her.

"No, you surprised me, is all. We haven't talked about her since that day on the balcony – and you bringing her up now makes me wonder why?"

She shrugged a shoulder. "Curiosity?"

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Are you sure that's all it is?"

"I was just surprised to hear you say that your mom and I are the only women to understand you – since you were engaged to marry Abigail."

He nodded sadly. "I think that's why she broke it off in the end. She realized that our relationship was a lie – that my heart was yours."

Mary shivered. "Don't say that."

"Why? It's the truth."

"Because I've broken it over and over again. I don't deserve you."

"We don't always get what we deserve – but we can get what we want, if we're brave enough to ask for it. So tell me, Mary Shannon, what do you want?"

Her breath caught in her throat. She had lost track of the number of times over the years that he had asked her 'what do you need' – but now he was asking her what she wanted. Did she dare tell him? What if it broke them both? Perhaps if she started with something small—

"Mary?" he whispered, bending down until his mouth was close to her ear. "What do you want?"

She turned her head until their eyes locked and held.

"I want you to kiss me."

* * *

 _A/N: I know, I'm mean to leave it there - but I promise not to leave you hanging for too long! Reviews are LOVE!_


	12. Kiss

_A/N: I've said it before and I'll say it again: Writing these emotion filled chapters about our beloved couple exhausts me. But at the same time, I love writing them too - otherwise, I'd stop, right?_

* * *

 **Mary's bedroom – 12:30AM**

"I want you to kiss me."

Marshall's head flew back in shock, his eyes wide, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The love of his life had finally said words he'd been longing to hear and here he was struck dumb and paralyzed from the neck up.

Mary sat up and reached out to him. "Marshall?" her hands fell on his shoulders but when he flinched under the contact she let her hands fall away. "I've shocked you."

He gulped, trying to think of how to put what he was feeling into words. "You have no idea-"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I thought we were on the same page here. I'll just-" she slid to the foot of the bed but quick as a flash, he followed and cupped her shoulders, turning her back to face him.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say those words."

The knot of anxiety and fear that had been forming ever since she had made her request and been met with his silence began to dissipate. "Since the barn?" she teased him, referencing the first and only time their lips had met, though she had called it 'smearing lipstick', refusing to acknowledge the fact that they had kissed.

He dropped his hands but not his eyes. "Honestly? Long before that."

The remainder of the knot dissolved to be replaced with a tingling warmth that she had previously only felt when in the throes of passion – never from just a look. Marshall had always had the ability to make her feel safe and protected within his embrace. But now that she knew the depth of his feelings and was just beginning to let herself go in regards to how she felt about him-

"Mary?"

She was startled out of her thoughts by his voice. "I'm OK, I'm not overthinking things, promise."

He frowned. "You've been through so much today – there's no hurry. I'm not going anywhere."

She shivered. "We don't know that for sure, do we? The jury could convict you, Marshall – and it would be all my fault."

He lifted his hands and gripped her shoulders, giving her a little shake. "Will you stop saying that?"

"I can't help it. If it wasn't for me, Kenny wouldn't have been in our lives at all-"

"Then it might have been someone else, for fuck's sake, and you know it! God, woman! You drive me mad, do you know that?"

She smiled weakly. "Then maybe you should walk away now before you get in any deeper-"

His hands fell from her shoulders in shock. "Is that what you want? After the trial do you want me to leave Albuquerque and you and Norah behind?"

"Perhaps it would be for the best."

"You're running hot and cold, Mer. Five minutes ago you were asking me to kiss you and now you're telling me to leave. Which is it?"

"I-"

"What do you want, Mer? You can't have it both ways."

"I think you should go."

His heart broke a little but he knew she was just protecting her heart again, so he pushed the hurt aside. "Enough of this," he growled as he pulled her into his arms. "Mary Shannon, what do you feel, right now in my arms, what do you feel?"

She grinned lasciviously. "Well, I definitely feel how much you want me."

He groaned. "I wasn't talking about me, woman. I was talking about you. Tell me how you feel. Do you love me?"

Her head dropped and she studied the buttons on his pullover. "You promised not to pressure me – to give me time."

"And one minute you're asking me for a kiss and the next you're pushing me out the door."

"Haven't you ever dealt with women before?" Mary looked up at him through her lashes.

"I haven't had much experience with women, you know that – and especially not ones that are in love with me."

Her breath left her in a rush. "I never said I was-"

His lips brushed against hers so quickly she almost wasn't sure they had been there in the first place, except for the fact that her lips were tingling and she was light-headed. She looped her arms around his neck.

"Kiss me, Marshall."

He shook his head. "Nope, not until you admit it."

She narrowed her eyes. "That's blackmail."

He shrugged. "That's a dirty word – just give me some encouragement, Mer, that my feelings aren't one-sided."

She leaned into him, resting her forehead against his. "You know they're not."

His eyebrows flew up. "How would I know that?"

She lifted one of his hands and tapped it against the side of her head. "Room renting, remember?"

He shook his head. "I would never be so presumptuous as to presume how you felt about me, Ms. Shannon." He took a long, slow, deep breath. "Are you saying – you have feelings for me?"

She was shaking again, but the trembling was softer this time, and it eased as he gathered her back into his arms. "How could I not?" she whispered, and watched a grin break out across his face. "Now, would you please just-" the rest of the words were lost as his mouth covered hers.

Mary was no stranger to being kissed. The first time a boy had dared to kiss her was in second grade. And it had been a dare – little Tommy Nelson had been dared by his friends that he couldn't steal a kiss from seven-year-old cold-hearted Mary Shannon. So at afternoon recess, while they were hanging upside down on the monkey bars, he swung and planted one right on her lips. Mary's response? She slugged him in the face, breaking his glasses and his nose. She got suspended from school for two days and was forced to apologize to Tommy and his parents. But she wasn't sorry – and she made Tommy apologize for kissing her in the first place.

Mary silently swore it would be a good long time before a boy ever kissed her again.

Her second kiss didn't happen until she was a freshman in high school, and Mitch had kissed her voluntarily of his own free will. She had kissed him back, under the bleachers at the homecoming game, and to her surprise, she discovered she liked kissing, though Mitch's kisses were wet and she needed to wipe her lips on her hands when they were done making out.

Mark's kisses were the first that set off little butterflies in her stomach and made her feel like she could fly. The fact that he was older and in a rock band and was interested in her – well, that was all part of the allure. After graduation when he had roared up on his Harley and casually suggested riding to Atlantic City and eloping, she had jumped at the chance – ignoring all the warning bells in her mind. She had wanted to escape and he was her way out.

There were so many men and kisses between Mark and Raph, Mary couldn't remember them all. In fact, most of them didn't care so much for the kissing as for the main event: sex. They just wanted to rip their clothes off, hers too, and get laid. Kissing just wasted time.

Raph had enjoyed foreplay – too much sometimes. She had been the impatient one, urging him to just get on with things because the more he took his time, the more her mind wandered to other things – like what it would be like to kiss her partner.

Then there had been her Mexican fling with Faber – that had been nothing but sex. In fact, Mary could probably count on one hand the number of times Faber had kissed her on the mouth – and she hadn't wanted him to –

But now as Marshall's mouth covered hers, she couldn't remember craving anything more- she had wanted his mouth on hers for so long, it had become a familiar ache she had come to live with over the years. One day maybe she would tell him how long she had wanted his kiss; that the night he had gotten shot during the Horst case, she had felt the bullet pierce the skin of her own heart. But for now, she would just enjoy the feel of his lips on hers.

He pulled back to look down into her face, eyes closed, lips upturned in a smile, and cheeks flushed. "Mary?" he whispered. "You all right?"

Her eyes opened to slits. "Yes, why?"

He swallowed. "Well, you haven't said anything-"

She laughed. "Kind of hard with your mouth on mine, Doofus."

"You didn't respond – kiss me back. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Shut up, Marshall." She cupped the back of his neck and pulled him back down to her lips. He lifted his hands and framed her face, nearly groaning aloud when she shifted slightly and threw a leg over his, straddling him.

Mary felt like she was flying. She didn't know how else to describe it. The first time she had kissed Mitch under the bleachers she had felt giddy, free, and indescribably like a woman for the first time. Marshall made her feel all these things and more. Every sensation was magnified, every touch was electric, and she never wanted to come up for air. She shivered and felt Marshall tremble underneath her as he applied pressure to her lips and deepened the kiss.

 _Suddenly Kenny was looming over her, holding her down and telling her that she'd like it._

Mary screamed into his mouth as her hand came up to slug him in the shoulder. Caught completely off guard, Marshall flew backwards onto the mattress and Mary was on top of him in an instant, slapping and hitting and cursing and spitting.

"Mary, stop it! It's me, Marshall!" he barked, finally managing to grab her by the wrists and holding her tight against him.

Her eyes focused on him as she came back from the nightmare world. "Marshall?" she whispered. "What happened?"

"You had a flashback-"

"What?" she looked down at him, noticing the red mark on his face and her hands began to shake. "Oh no, oh no, oh no, no no!" She slipped off the bed and ran for the bathroom door but he was faster. He got in front of her, blocking her escape route. "Let me go, Marshall," she growled. "Before I hurt you further."

"You didn't mean it, Mer. You were back at Kenny's being assaulted – not here with me."

Mary was shaking her head so hard he thought it might pop off. "I can't believe – you don't understand, do you? I'm broken, Marshall. I thought maybe, with you – but if you can't fix-"

Anger rose inside of him. "That's what this was? An experiment to see if you could get it on without freaking out? So everything you said about having feelings for me – that was a lie?"

She gaped at him. "No, God, no! Damn it, Marshall. I'm in love with you."

Part of him really wanted to shout to the rooftops that Mary had finally admitted her feelings, but there was so much more to be dealt with that for the moment he set his own feelings aside. "Then talk to me. Tell me what the hell just happened."

"You know what happened – we were kissing and I – freaked out."

"Yes, but why?"

Mary's mouth went dry. "Because I felt-" she swallowed. "I felt your arousal and it reminded me of-" she hung her head.

"Fuck." Marshall reached out and pulled her into him, wondering two seconds too late if she'd feel trapped, if she still needed her space. But Mary clung to him like a lifeline and he exhaled a long sigh of relief. "I'm sorry. I need you to know that I never would have taken it any further tonight. All you asked for was a kiss and that's all I planned on giving you."

"Ever?" Mary spoke the word into his shoulder.

He stiffened. "What?"

She sniffed and backed up a step to look in his eyes. "Is that all you were ever planning to do?"

The look in her eyes made the bottom drop out of his stomach. "Mary-"

"Kissing you was wonderful, Marshall – much more so than with anyone else I've ever kissed, in fact. But I'd be lying if I said that's as far as I want to go with you."

He groaned and leaned his forehead against hers. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"

She shook her head. "No, just being honest. You asked me not to run from this, from us, remember?"

He nodded.

"So now I'm asking you if you're sure. About us – about me."

"Mary – how can you even-"

She lifted a finger and placed it across his lips. "Let me finish, please."

He frowned but nodded.

"The woman you confessed your feelings to that day on the balcony – she doesn't exist anymore. She died with you that night in the truck and the one you see now standing before you is broken, battered and bruised, and still trying to put the pieces back together."

Marshall ran his hand down her arm and captured her hand. "Come here."

"I'm not finished-"

"Yes, you are. Come here." He dragged her into the bathroom and placed her in front of the mirror as he flipped on the overhead, bathing them both in fluorescent lighting. She flinched and then gasped at the mark on his face.

"Let me take care of-"

"In a minute. Look in the mirror, Mary. Do you know what I see?"

"Two tired, grumpy, almost over the hill US Marshals?"

He slapped her on the butt and she looked up at him in shock. "What was that for?"

"Because you're a brat – now, listen. I see a strong woman who has weathered many storms and come through them stronger than before."

Mary shook her head. "I'm not-"

"Listen! This last one nearly broke her – nearly cost her someone she loved. I say nearly, because you and I both know that even if the unthinkable had happened, she would have gone on."

"No, you're wrong."

"I'm not wrong – you would have gone on, Mer."

"How do you know? How can you be so sure?"

"One word: Norah."

Her heart lurched. Bug. He was right: somehow, someway she would have found a way to go on for her daughter even if Marshall had died that night. But he hadn't – he was here with her, holding her in his arms, standing in her bathroom in the middle of the night, reassuring her she could and would have gone on.

"Must you always be right?"

He grinned. "It's my only annoying quality."

She snorted. "We both know that's not true. You have many annoying qualities-"

He leaned down and placed a feather light kiss behind her ear. "You find the others endearing-"

She gasped. "I do not! From your never ending trivia to your knuckle cracking to your fake French accent-"

"Hey, my mother was French!"

"Yes, but you have never visited the country, Doofus!"

He chuckled and buried his face in the nape of her neck. "I love you, Sunshine."

The smile slipped from her face. "Are you sure? There's still time for you to walk away. I have more baggage than the lost and found counter at an airport and no matter what you say, I am broken."

"Hey," he turned her around to face him, dropping his hands to her shoulders. "I've been carrying your baggage for years, remember? I've gotten used to the load."

She shook her head. "Marshall-"

"And you are not broken, Mer. You are battered and bruised, but you are in recovery – and we can put the pieces back together."

She swallowed. "But what if I can never – what if we can never-"

He caressed her cheek with a finger. "Intimacy isn't just about sex. It's also about trust and the relationship between the partners. I love you, Mary – I always have. So no more running, all right? After all, I can't leave the state."

She glowered at him. "That's not funny."

"Sorry. Just trying to inject a little levity."

She bit her lip. "So, you'd really stay with me – have a committed relationship with a woman even if she couldn't – you know – be intimate?"

"If that woman is you – yes. But don't sell yourself short. It hasn't even been four months since your attack. The very fact that you want to kiss someone-"

She held up her hands. "Not someone – you." She shuddered. "The thought of any other man, a stranger, touching me right now, makes me sick."

"And I'm different?"

"You know you are – you've always made me feel safe."

"That's all?"

She slapped his arm, but there was no force behind it. "Don't go fishing for more compliments, Doofus. You've had your share tonight." She smothered a yawn. "What time is it, anyway?"

"I have no idea – but it must be pretty late. Let's get you back to bed."

She grabbed his hand. "Stay?"

"Are you sure? After what happened earlier-"

She stepped into his space, looping her arms around his neck. "All I wanted the whole time you were in your coma was for you to wake up and hold me, like you did the night of my attack, until I fell asleep. I'm not going to get any sleep unless-" she blushed and dropped her eyes.

He ran his hands up and down her arms soothingly. "Hey, I understand. I just thought you might want space. There's nowhere else I'd rather be than in your bed."

"Marshall!"

He grinned and held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "To sleep, Mary. Get your mind out of the gutter, woman."

* * *

 _A/N: I had to end on a bit of 'levity' after such a serious chapter - reviews are LOVE!_


	13. Fallout

_A/N: A VERY special shout-out to ladypuercoloco who reviewed each of my chapters again from the beginning and reminded me of a "thread" I'd dropped. It is readers like you that boost me up and inspire me to keep writing M &M fic - and this one has been SO much fun to write._

 _And now, on with our story. Our beloved couple has had a magical night - but unfortunately face reality in the morning. . . ._

* * *

 **Saturday morning 6:15 AM**

 **Rietta's apartment**

Rietta's phone beeped twice, signaling an incoming text message, and a hand groped for the offending object without removing her sleep mask.

"Hello?" she croaked into the phone and waited for an answer before it dawned on her that there wasn't anyone there. "What the-" she sat up and groaned, shoving her sleep mask up into her riot of red curls. Her eyes struggled to focus as her thumb swiped the screen to unlock it and the text message from her assistant Chanel popped up:

 _ **Turn on Channel 9 news now.**_

Biting back more colorful metaphors, she grabbed the TV remote from her nightstand and hit speed dial 2. Chanel picked up on the second ring. "Morning, boss."

"Somebody better be dead."

"Have you turned the TV on yet?"

"Just a minute- you woke me up from a delicious dream about-" the words died in her throat as the images and sound filled her tiny bedroom.

" _This is Linda Brown with Channel 9 news and I'm reporting to you live from outside the Shannon house. We followed Marshall Mann here last night and he has yet to vacate the premises. . . ."_

"Fuck!" Rietta swore as she threw back the covers and searched for the clothes she had discarded before falling into bed a few hours ago. "I warned him – I told both of them that they would be the death of me – but did they listen?"

Chanel giggled. "They're in love."

Rietta's eyes fluttered shut as she tried to rein in her emotions. "I don't give a rat's ass if they're Cinderella and Prince Charming, Chanel. He's on trial for murder one and this is publicity he does not need right now! Every member of the jury is going to see that story and no matter how hard they try, it's going to taint their picture of the evidence presented – not to mention how they perceive Marshall."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to call that Detective – what's her name – Abigail something-"

"Abigail Chaffee?"

"Yes, her. Tell her to get over to the Shannon house and break up that press party-"

"But she's a homicide detective, boss, not-"

"I don't care! She's the only cop we have direct access to! She has the authority to kick people off private property, doesn't she?"

"I suppose so."

"Then I want you to get coffee and breakfast from Lindy's and meet me at the Shannon's to deal with this fallout-"

"Are you sure we can't give the lovebirds more time to-"

Rietta's scream of frustration was smothered as she yanked a sweatshirt over her head. "If you value your job, you won't finish that sentence. I don't care if I get over there and find them in the middle of sex, understand? I'm going to haul Marshall's ass out of there and talk some sense into him."

"Good luck with that, boss."

* * *

 **6:25 AM**

 **Shannon house**

Brandi patted PM's back, waiting for the burp, and watched with wide eyes at the activity on the street outside. Peter had warned her to stay away from the windows as soon as she had awakened but that had only made her curious. But his warning had done nothing to prepare her for the Channel 9 news van and the cameras and the reporters on the street out front. She saw several of their neighbors peeking around their curtains but only nosy Mr. Aplet had come outside and was casually chatting with the pretty Linda Brown from Channel 9 news.

Brandi whirled around to confront her boyfriend. "How long have they been out there?"

Peter shrugged. "I noticed the news van when I locked up last night-"

She gasped. "What? Before or after Marshall got here?"

He averted his eyes. "After-"

She groaned. "They must have followed him here. We have to do something, Peter."

He raised his eyes to stare her down. "Like what? Go out there and say, 'Nothing to see here- move along'?"

She rolled her eyes as PM gave a loud belch on her shoulder. "I have to at least go out there and stop Mr. Aplet from telling them our business. He's such a nosy, self-righteous b-"

Peter reached out and gently took the baby from her. "Not in front of our son, please?"

Brandi warmed at his use of 'our son', but didn't say anything. She was still too afraid that this was a dream and she'd wake up to find him gone. He thought she'd been asleep last night when he was talking to Marshall about how hurt he still was that she left – but she'd heard every word. She didn't blame him – she understood how much she'd hurt him and part of her was astonished at how quickly he'd forgiven her. But perhaps he hadn't – at least not completely. And if the past was something they couldn't leave behind. . . .

"Brandi?"

She startled at the sound of her name, not realizing how lost in thought she had become. "I'm fine – just worried about Mary and Marshall. They've both been through so much. I just want them to have a little bit of happiness."

"He's on trial for murder one."

"Yes but, he didn't do it – you know that, don't you?"

There was a heartbeat before Peter's answer. "Of course."

Brandi felt herself grow cold. "You – you have doubts. Oh my God, you actually think he might have killed Kenny." She took her son back, unwilling to let her baby be in the arms of a man who had doubts about Marshall. She cuddled him close, breathing in his fresh baby scent, trying to calm herself down.

"Brandi, listen to me. Mary's testimony yesterday was full of information that was new to me – I had no idea of the horrors she went through the day of Marshall's accident. I had no idea that she actually witnessed Marshall's accident – let alone was physically assaulted by Kenny-"

Brandi sighed. "You know Mary doesn't talk about-"

Peter held up a hand. "I know – and I understand. But hearing about it for the first time, and watching Marshall's reaction as she told her story, made me realize how deeply he loves her."

She snorted as she crossed the living room and set PM down in the bassinet. "You didn't know before?"

He shook his head. "No. Not like that – not that deep. That he would die for her – kill for her."

Brandi recoiled from the words. "No!"

Peter put his hands on her shoulders. "Are you so positive, deep down, that Marshall wouldn't-"

Brandi wrestled out of his grip, putting her hands over her ears. "I don't want to hear anymore. Get out, Peter."

"Brandi-"

"I said: Get out. Before you make me sorry I ever named my child after you."

A stricken look crossed his face. "You don't mean that."

Brandi's chin shot up. "Try me."

He sighed. "I'll call you later – after we've both had time to calm down."

She crossed her arms. "Better make it after you've changed your mind about Marshall – otherwise don't bother."

"Brandi, I didn't say I thought he-"

She held up her hands. "Just go now, Peter. I'm tired and I need to check on Norah."

He stepped into her space and tried to put his arms around her up she side stepped him. "I love you."

She turned her back and walked down the hall to peek at Norah, knowing that if she returned the words, her resolve would crumble. Brandi waited until she heard the front door open and shut before she let the tears fall and tried to keep the old fears away that told her that once again, she had thrown away the best thing that had ever happened to her, except her son.

* * *

 **6:45 AM**

Warmth.

Mary hadn't felt this warm, this safe, this loved – ever.

She opened her eyes to mere slits and looked down to see a hand, an arm, draped casually over her hip, the long fingers stroking a slow, lazy pattern over her belly. The warmth was coming from behind her, and she could feel his body curled up, connected with her from shoulder to hip to thigh, stacked like two spoons in a drawer. She could feel his breath in her hair, each exhale ruffling it softly. She idly wondered where his other arm was, but then realized their hands were locked together above her head on the pillow. For as intimate as their position was, both of them were still fully clothed, only having kicked off their shoes and loosened buttons before collapsing in the bed. She took a moment to think about the fact that she didn't feel trapped and didn't want to move. The last lover who had wanted to snuggle had been Raph – and she hadn't been interested in lingering in his embrace.

But this morning she had no desire to move from Marshall's arms and he had done no more than kiss her last night. She couldn't imagine what it would be like once they actually had sex.

She felt Marshall's breathing change and then he said her name. She rolled over to meet his blue eyes, surprisingly clear for this early hour.

"Good morning – I think we fell asleep," she grinned at him.

He ran the back of his hand across her cheek. "Are we still?"

"I don't know-" his lips on hers stopped the flow of words temporarily. "If we are, it's the same dream."

He leaned his forehead against hers. "I can't believe I can kiss you now whenever I want."

She laughed. "Maybe not whenever- during work isn't a good idea-"

"Brat," he sassed and kissed her again. "Did you sleep well?"

She nodded. "No nightmares."

He smiled. "Really?"

"Last night was the first uninterrupted night's sleep I've gotten since before this whole nightmare started. I don't know how to say-"

He ran a hand up and down her arm soothingly. "Say what?"

She shrugged. "Thank you? I mean, I'm not naïve enough to think I'm out of the woods but the fact that you stayed with me last night when I tried my hardest to push you away-"

"That was your hardest?" He snorted. "Come on, you and I both know that you've put me through worse before-"

Her eyes were wet as she reached for him and pulled him into her. "But not now that I know how deep our feelings run – I don't – I can't – Marshall, don't let me run."

He cupped her face. "I won't."

She sat up in bed, crossing her legs, shaking her head. "I mean, this isn't going to be easy. I'm br-bruised, still healing from what happened and I don't know how long this process is going to take. I have no idea how long the nightmares and the flashbacks are going to last. On one hand it's not fair for me to say 'wait for me' but that's exactly what I'm asking you to do – I love you, Marshall, and I hope you can be patient-"

He sat up so fast that she didn't have time to prepare for his lips on hers. She fell backwards on the bed, cradling his head in her hands, moaning as his mouth moved softly and gently against hers. There was no urgency or sexual angst in the embrace – but Mary could feel the warmth of his body against hers and again marveled that it wasn't scaring her away.

Marshall pulled away enough to whisper in her ear, "I love you, Mary: all of you, the good, the bad, and the not so pretty parts. Six months ago I never dreamed that you and I would be together like this – so you asking me to be patient and wait for you because you love me?" He trembled against her. "Don't you know the power you have over me? You could ask just about anything of me right now and I'd do it."

The bedroom door flew open and Mary and Marshall jumped apart to see Rietta standing there, arms crossed and eyes blazing. "For Heaven Sake, do not let the press hear you make a statement like that, Marshall Mann, or it will be death by lethal injection for you. Now, both of you, get dressed and get your asses out here. We've got to do some damage control."

Marshall swung his long legs over the side of the bed and stood. "This is Mary's bedroom, Rietta. You can't just barge in here, unannounced-"

"And in case you haven't noticed, we are dressed." Mary added.

"And since you two were too busy fucking to notice the press outside-"

"We were not fucking-"

Mary held up a hand. "Press? Outside?"

Rietta nodded. "Channel 9 news – they're gone now, thanks to your friend Detective Chaffee."

Mary sneered as she stood and rounded the bed to stand beside Marshall. "She's his friend, not mine."

"At any rate, she got rid of them – for now. But they'll be back. The two of you have stirred up a hornet's nest. I warned you both-"

"I wasn't going to leave Mary alone last night – she needed me."

Rietta sighed. "I know this hard on you both-"

"Do you? Have you ever been accused of murder?" Marshall threaded a hand through his hair.

Mary laid a hand on his arm. "We'll be out in a few minutes, Rietta."

The lawyer nodded and left, but she didn't close the door.

Mary snorted and turned back to her partner. "Marshall, listen, she's just doing her job. And I told you myself when you came here last night that the press were most likely following you-"

He grabbed her hips and pulled her into him. "I didn't care then and I don't care now! I'm not going to let them fuck with my life, Mer!"

"But public opinion matters, Marshall – more than we would wish it to. We can't let them crucify you in the press over this. Rietta is right and you know it."

"So what are you saying? We stay away from each other until after the trial is over? I don't know if I can do that."

"I agree it's not the ideal situation-"

"Ideal! Hell, Mary, it would be torture and you know it! You said it yourself that last night was the first night you had no nightmares-"

She shuddered and laid her head on his shoulder. "I know – but it will all be worth it when you are found not guilty."

"You need me-"

She stepped back and cupped his face. "Yes, I need you to be found innocent. Norah and I need you in our lives for a good long time! And if that means you and I need to be separated in the short term – we can deal with that. What I can't deal with is you being sent to prison for life or sitting on death row for a crime you didn't commit!"

His lips gave her a series of short, deep kisses. "You won't forget how much I love you?"

She gave him a shaky smile. "Even when I wasn't admitting how I felt about you, I knew you loved me. You're more likely to forget how I feel about you."

He pressed his lips to hers one more time. "Not a chance. The words are imprinted on my heart."

She rolled her eyes. "You're such a Doofus."

Rietta knocked on the door. "Time's up, lovebirds. Let's have some breakfast and make a game plan."

Marshall shook his head, not breaking eye contact with Mary. "No need, Rietta, I'll come with you peacefully."

Rietta's eyebrows rose into her hairline as she looked from one to the other in surprise. "Well then, I'll be in the car." Her footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Marshall leaned in and kissed her forehead. "I love you, Mary."

She smiled up at him. "I love you."

He stepped back. "Call you later?"

She tipped her head to the side. "Is that wise?"

He groaned. "I can't do this without any contact between us, Mer. I need your strength to get through this."

She nodded. "I'll talk to you later."

He walked away and she waited until the front door opened and closed before she collapsed on the bed and let the tears fall.

Mary felt the bed dip a few minutes later and opened her eyes to see Brandi lying next to her, tear tracks still evident on Squish's face.

"Hi."

Brandi grunted.

"I see that your day is off to a great start as well."

Brandi grunted again.

"Want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Fine by me."

Several minutes passed before the silence was broken by PM's wail. Brandi groaned and climbed to her feet. "Oh. Marshall's lawyer brought breakfast – it's in the kitchen, if you want it."

"Maybe later – I'm not really hungry."

"Mary – are you OK? Did you and Marshall-"

Mary smiled. "We're fine, Squish. Now go get my nephew before he becomes inconsolable."

* * *

 _A/N: And once again the Shannon women are alone - don't worry readers, they will survive! What's next for Marshall's trial? Anyone else doubting Marshall's innocence? Reviews are LOVE._


	14. Leia

_A/N: I celebrated Super Bowl Sunday by writing - yay! So the first part of this chapter is 'filler' but watch out for the second part - whoa! Enjoy!_

* * *

 **7:20 AM, Saturday morning**

"Marshall, we need to talk about this."

"Not now, Rietta."

She sighed. "I know you're upset-"

He grunted.

"But you do understand the shit that's going to hit the fan because you spent the night with Mary?"

Marshall's jaw clenched. "Not – now."

"Stella, Judge Carlson, and every member of the jury-"

Marshall turned and locked eyes with Rietta for the first time since leaving Mary's house. "Are you hard of hearing? I said I don't want to discuss this right now – because if I do, I'm going to say something I'll regret later. So please, shut up."

Rietta's mouth snapped shut. She'd never seen Marshall so tightly wound. He was sitting next to her in the car like a tightly coiled spring, ready to snap. This was something the jury members definitely didn't need to see: an emotionally charged Marshall that was more than capable of acting on those feelings. Was it possible? Had he killed Kenny in an act of rage for violating the woman he loved? Rietta pushed the thought away – of course it was possible. Everyone was capable of murder if pushed hard enough.

When she pulled up to the front of Marshall's apartment building, she felt the fury emanating from him go up a notch when he saw Stan's sedan parked across the street.

"You called my boss?"

"I did."

"Why?"

Rietta knew she needed to pick her words very carefully. "I thought you could use a friend."

Marshall stared at her for a long moment before opening the car door. "You do realize that I'm trained to spot liars?"

She licked her lips. "Marshall- please. I don't want things to be awkward between us-"

He gave a dry laugh. "It's a little late for that. You could have called me before barging into Mary's bedroom like the vice squad." Marshall slammed the car door and didn't look back as he walked into his building.

* * *

 **7:30 AM**

"Keep your shirt on, I'm coming!" Mary mumbled around a mouthful of cheese Danish as she hurried to the front door. "Don't you know we have babies trying to sleep and it's not even-" Mary yanked on the doorknob and was instantly engulfed in a cologne-scented embrace.

"Mary! Thank God! I came as soon as Jinx called me – are you all right?"

Mary wrinkled her nose against the overwhelming scent and pushed herself out of Mark's arms. She took a couple of steps back to study her ex-husband standing before her in his three-piece business suit and slicked back hair. He looked like he had just stepped out of the pages of GQ magazine, though the suit was slightly wrinkled.

"I'm fine. What are you doing here? Where's Anne?"

"She's on her way to New York – we have business meetings all next week but I had to stop and see you and Norah once Jinx called me – but why didn't you?"

Mary shrugged a shoulder and turned back towards the kitchen, Mark following in her wake. "Norah is fine, Mark. None of this has anything to do with her, so I guess I thought-"

Mark stepped around in front of her and grasped her shoulders. "Norah may be my daughter, but we made her together, Mary. I care about you – I always will, you have to know that. It doesn't matter that I'm married now and living halfway around the world. Leaving the two of you here was the hardest decision I ever made. I thought Marshall would protect and take care of you both but now I hear-" his voice broke, and he was uncertain how to continue that sentence.

She shrugged out of his hold. "What? You hear what? Mark, you don't honestly think he killed Kenny?"

"Mary, Kenny physically assaulted you," Mark said slowly, as if the words gave him great pain. "I don't know what I would have done if I had been here. Marshall's in love with you-"

"Yes, he is – and that's how I know he didn't kill Kenny."

Mark frowned. "I don't understand."

Mary shook her head. "I don't know if I can explain it to you – Marshall has a code that he lives by. He doesn't take a life unless he doesn't have any other option. And Norah and I," Mary's voice broke. "I don't know why or how – but we're the most important people in his life and he wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that. Killing Kenny would have meant giving us up for a long time – as well as violating his own code. That's how I know Marshall's innocent."

Mark studied her for a long moment before he said softly, "You love him."

"Yes."

"Wow," Mark's hand went around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "Have you told him?"

She nodded, her voice momentarily gone.

"I guess you don't need me then, huh?"

She looked up at him through her tears. "You're wrong, Mark. Norah will always need her father. And I can use a friend."

Mark kissed her temple. "I can't stay long."

"I know. You're a big important businessman now-"

"Well, I don't know that I'd go that far. It's Anne's company - I'm just her second-in-command."

She shrugged. "Same thing. Are you hungry? There's some breakfast left."

He eyed her warily. "You didn't make it, did you?"

She smiled. "What if I said yes?"

"I'd have coffee."

"It's takeout from Lindy's."

"In that case, I'm starving."

* * *

 **8:00 AM**

Marshall heard voices coming from his kitchen when he stepped out of the shower. He cocked his head and listened, hoping that his lawyer hadn't had the audacity to circle the block several times and come back. But the timbre and inflection was wrong for it to be Rietta and he unclenched the jaw he hadn't consciously realized he'd tensed again. He closed his eyes and pictured Mary in his mind's eye telling him that he needed to relax, that he couldn't shoot the messenger as much as he wanted to. He had no one to blame but himself for the media frenzy that was going to erupt from his nocturnal activities last night. And the truth of the matter was – he still wasn't sorry. But Stella and the court could and would definitely make him pay for it by making a mountain out of a molehill: show that he and Mary had been in a sexual relationship all along no matter how much the two of them tried to deny it.

Marshall threw on an old NMU T-shirt and baggy sweats, smoothing his wet hair back with his fingers. The imprint of Mary's hand was still slightly visible on the right side of his face and neck. Stan had looked at him oddly when he came inside but Marshall hadn't said anything except he was going to take a shower. His and Mary's affairs were private – he didn't want to discuss them with anyone, not even the man who he looked on as a second father. Marshall was just glad that the mark was fading – it should be completely gone by Monday. One less thing to explain to the court was a good thing.

When he opened his bedroom door, the voices reached him clearly and he identified Peter's immediately. He crossed the few steps to the kitchen arch and leaned against the frame. Stan was standing at the stove, an apron over his casual attire, spatula in hand, regaling Peter with some story. Peter was sitting at the small kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee but looked up when he saw Marshall lounging in the doorway.

"Hey – sorry to barge in on you like this-"

Marshall waved the words away. "Mi casa, su casa." He walked across to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup. "What's up? Or did you come for some of Stan's fiery eggs?"

"Hey! They're not that hot!"

Marshall grinned. "Stan – your secret ingredient is sriarcha."

Peter paled. "Maybe I'll pass on the eggs."

"Don't let him scare you, Pete."

Marshall opened the fridge and pulled out a container of sour cream. "Don't worry – I've got you covered."

"Thanks – I think."

"Breakfast is served!"

The three men ate in silence, Stan and Marshall eating most of the scrambled eggs and sausage, while Peter picked at the concoction, drowning it in sour cream.

Finally Stan couldn't stand the suspense any longer. "So, what do you think?"

Peter swallowed. "Well, it's – um-" he choked on a little bite.

"It's an acquired taste," Marshall rescued him, smothering a grin.

"Exactly," Peter smiled in relief.

Stan grunted. "Want some more?"

"No, thank you."

"I'll have some more, Stan, thanks," Marshall held out his empty plate.

When Stan got up to the dishes, Peter leaned across the small table to whisper, "How did you eat all that – without sour cream?"

Marshall smiled. "I like spicy – though it took me a couple of times to get used to Stan's spicy eggs. I grew up in Texas, and we like our food big and spicy."

Peter looked him up and down. "Where do you put it all?"

Stan laughed. "He's hollow."

Marshall shrugged. "It's bound to catch up with me one day but it hasn't yet."

Peter refilled his coffee cup and finally answered Marshall's question about why he was there. "I screwed up big with Brandi."

Marshall leaned back in his chair, crossing his ankles, adopting his listening pose. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure – I mean, one minute we're talking about the media outside and the next thing I know we're arguing about whether or not you're innocent-" his voice broke off. "I mean, I know you're innocent, don't get me wrong-"

"But you have doubts."

"I won't call them doubts, Marshall. That's too strong a word – I was just trying to explain to Brandi that in light of what came out in court yesterday, I could understand how you might, and I emphasize might, have lost your head and killed that S.O.B."

Stan had stopped doing the dishes and both men were staring at him in silence and Peter squirmed under the scrutiny, getting to his feet.

"And I'll be going now because both of you must think I'm the scum of the earth to even-"

Stan waved him back into the chair. "Sit down, Son."

Peter sat down slowly, his eyes on Marshall's face. "You must think I'm a lousy friend-"

Marshall shook his head. "No, I don't. You're an honest one – you admit something that none of my other friends have been willing to even entertain – that I could have killed Kenny. In my darkest moments, I find myself wondering if I did, because I still can't remember that day – it's blank. The doctors tell me my memory for that twenty-four hours might never come back. Can you believe that? The most critical day of my life and I might never get it back!"

"I don't believe you're a killer, Marshall."

"Even for the woman I love?"

"But that would separate you from her for a very long time – if not permanently. I don't think you'd take that risk."

Marshall gave a tight grin. "So you don't think I killed him?"

"No! That's what I've been trying to tell you and what I was trying to tell Brandi this morning when she threw me out on my ear! It's almost like we were arguing about something else – something-"

"Like the unresolved issues between you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, Peter. You said it yourself last night – you haven't completely forgiven her for leaving. What if Brandi heard that? We thought she was asleep but what if she was awake?"

"You're saying she picked a fight with me out of – what? Fear? But that's-"

"Crazy?" Marshall shrugged. "Welcome to the wonderful world of being in love with a Shannon woman. They don't speak sense."

Peter shook his head. "I have to talk to her-"

Marshall's hand shot out. "No, not yet. Your words about waiting a few days were good ones. Take the rest of the weekend – Brandi, like Mary, needs a little cooling off period before they are ready to listen to what we have to say."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Years, my friend, years."

* * *

 **Noon**

"You do this every day?" Peter collapsed on the easy chair in Marshall's living room.

Marshall laughed as he jogged to the kitchen and back, handing a bottle of water to Peter and watched as the man took a long swig. "Yep, except that was only two miles – my usual route is six."

"Six?" Peter sputtered. "You were going easy on me?"

"I didn't think you were up to-"

"Bless you!" Peter took another long pull.

"Whoa, slow down! That's ice cold – don't want your stomach to cramp up."

"Ow!" Peter doubled over and Marshall caught the water bottle before it fell to the floor. "Too late."

"Just relax, the cramping will relax in a couple of minutes."

"I think I'm dying – " Peter wheezed.

"You said you wanted a distraction from Brandi-"

"Yes, but I didn't want you to kill me!"

Marshall chuckled and began his cool down stretches so his legs didn't cramp up.

Peter's eyes narrowed as he watched him. "Are you in training for something?"

Marshall shook his head. "No, last year I ran in the half marathon, but I decided to take this year off."

"Runners are crazy people – I don't understand the allure."

"I need to be fast in my job – and to keep up with Mary."

Peter grinned. "Chasing girls is different from running."

"Is it?"

"At least you have a goal – or someone to chase after." Peter took a cautious sip of water. "So tell me, what made you decide to be a Marshal in Witness Protection?"

Marshall's head whipped up and for a heartbeat he didn't answer. "Peter-"

"Don't deny it, Marshall. Once Brandi and I became serious, I did my homework on you and Mary – and it didn't take me long to discover what branch of the Marshal Service you two really work for. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

Marshall dropped to the sofa, his eyes serious. "Our work is kept secret, not even our families know- to protect them, keep them safe."

"Marshall, you have my word." Peter held out his hand and they shook. "So, now can you tell me why you became a Marshal? I mean, if it's not classified?"

Marshall smiled. "You mean it's not every little boy's dream to grow up and be a US Marshal?"

"Uh, no?"

"Well, you could say it kind of ran in the family – even so, that's why my mom named me Marshall. She was hoping that I wouldn't follow tradition and I actually had no interest in it – I was going to be a history teacher." Marshall paused.

"So what happened?" Peter prompted.

"My best friend happened – Leia."

"Wait a minute – your best friend's name was Leia – after the girl from Star Wars?"

Marshall shook his head. "Her real name was Jenny Parks. But everyone called her Leia because she dressed up as Princess Leia for Halloween the same year I dressed up as Luke Skywalker – after that, everyone called us 'Luke and Leia'."

"Aw, you two sound like such a couple of cute nerdy kids."

"I was thirteen when 'Return of Jedi' came out, Leia was twelve – and Mom took us to see the movie. I can remember us sitting in that theatre, a bucket of popcorn between us, totally engrossed in the movie, my mom sitting five rows back to give us space. We had to wake her up when the movie was over. Can you believe that? I mean, who falls asleep during George Lucas' masterpiece?" Marshall snorted.

"What happened to Leia?"

Marshall sobered. "Her dad was the pharmacist at Two Pines, a small town fifteen miles outside of San Antonio, and at that time, a hotspot for the Hispanic gangs in the area. About a month after we went see Star Wars, the pharmacy was held up and Dr. Parks was shot – he was rushed to the hospital and the doctors saved his life. Leia came over to my house that night and threw pebbles at my window until I woke up and came down to meet her. She said that she and her dad had to leave, that they weren't safe because her dad knew who had robbed the store and shot him and was going to tell the cops. We had matching friendship bracelets and she asked if she could have mine and she'd give me hers and that way we'd always remember each other. I agreed and we swapped bracelets. She left and I went back to bed. I don't know what time it was but it couldn't have been too much later, I was awakened by the sound of sirens and the smell of smoke. Leia's house was less than a mile from ours and I remember running all the way over there in my bare feet, following the fire trucks, and the ambulance. When I got there – the whole house was engulfed in flames."

"I'm so sorry, Marshall."

He cleared his throat. "It was a long time ago. But losing my best friend that night made me want to help people that were in trouble – and as I grew up, I knew that the best way to do that was to become a US Marshal."

"There were no survivors that night?"

Marshall shook his head. "It was only Leia and her dad – and they both died in the fire that night."

* * *

 **2:30 PM**

 **Vincent Residence**

Julie fingered the faded threads of the bracelet as the tears splashed down her face. Her other hand soothed the restless child growing inside of her. The more upset she got, the more acrobatics the baby did and the more nauseous she became. Kirk would be home soon and if he found her here like this, or worse, bent over the toilet tossing the contents of her stomach down the drain, he would not hesitate to show his displeasure. He had been careful since she had told him she was pregnant, not wanting to harm the baby, but she wasn't stupid. She knew that her days were numbered, that her margin of safety was growing shorter as her due date came closer with each passing day.

The front door slammed shut. "JULIE! Where are you?"

She hurriedly shoved the tattered bracelet down the front of her dress and crossed to the bathroom door so it would look as if she just came out.

Kirk stepped into the bedroom. "Why didn't you answer me?"

"Sorry, I had just flushed the toilet when I heard you call me."

His eyes narrowed as he crossed the room to stand in front of her. "You've been crying."

"I – I was watching a movie on Lifetime-"

He grabbed her upper arms. "Liar! What have you been doing?"

"Kirk! You're hurting me. The baby-"

He released her and backed up a step, breathing heavily. "What were you doing in here?"

She shook her head. "Nothing – I was just lying down. I wasn't feeling well after breakfast-"

"You sure? You're not seeing someone, are you?"

"No, Kirk."

"You better be telling me the truth after everything-" he ground his teeth. "We're going out tonight."

She sighed. "Oh Kirk, do we-"

He whirled and shook his finger in her face. "It's a fundraiser for Stephen – Melody will be there so the two of you can sit in a corner and gab – you'll like that."

"Yes, Kirk." Julie knew as Stephen's wife that Melody could hardly sit in a corner and talk to her all evening. But she also knew that as the police commissioner's wife, she couldn't sit home and let him go to this event alone.

"You do have something to wear, don't you? One of your formals still fits?"

She flinched as if he'd struck her. "Yes, I –I think so."

"Good. And you're ready for court on Monday?"

"Do you really think I'll be called?"

He gave her the look that always made her feel stupid. "You were one of the last people to see him alive, Julie. Of course you will be called. Just say what we've rehearsed and you'll be fine."

"But what if the defense attorney traps me or tricks me or-"

"Then look at me for cues. Do not go off script – understand?"

She shook her head. "I won't."

In a surprising display of affection, he kissed her forehead. "Good girl. Now go start to get ready – you look like a mess."

Julie collapsed on the bed as he strode from the room. She reached down the front of her dress and pulled out the tattered bracelet with the faded image of Luke Skywalker.

 _I'm so sorry, Marshall._

* * *

 _A/N: Yay- Marshall and Peter bonding! And no surprise, Leia=Julie survived the fire. But how does she fit into all this and what exactly is she sorry for? Stay tuned and reviews are LOVE!_


	15. Recognition

_A/N: Dear friends- So sorry for the long delay! Many thanks for those of you who have continued to read and favorite my stories, and send me messages to continue this story. No, it is not dead. Yes, I do intend to finish it. RL and other issues continue to get in the way. But here at last is another chapter! I think it is a perfect blend of fluff and suspense - but I'm biased. It's been so long that you may need to re-read from the beginning to refresh your memory! Grab a blanket, curl up and enjoy. xoxo_

* * *

Marshall hadn't realized that he had nodded off until the sound of tapping made his eyes snap open and his head jerk up. He muted the TV and shuffled towards the door, noting that the time on the wall clock read 10:32. He frowned as he neared the door, wondering who was coming by so late and then relaxed as he heard the sound of whimpering coming from the other side of the door. He fully expected to see Brandi and PM on the other side, but he was wrong on both counts.

"Mark!" he exclaimed. "What brings you back to Albuquerque?"

The man glowered at him but Norah reached out her hands, her face tear streaked and a little swollen. "Sha-Sha!"

Marshall held his hands out to catch her. "What's wrong, ladybug?"

"She's getting a molar – and she's driving Mary nuts. She hasn't been able to soothe her all day. She was hoping you might-"

Marshall nodded as he began to bounce and hum as he slowly turned and walked towards the kitchen not waiting to see if Mark followed. He opened the freezer and scrounged in the back. "I think I still have some of her teethers back here- ah, here's one!" He handed it to her but Norah swatted it out of his hand, and screamed.

Mark shrugged. "Like I said, Mary tried everything she could think of."

"Hmm, how about a washrag? Did she try one of those?"

Mark thought for a minute. "I don't know – she tried so many things."

"It's worth a shot. I'll be right back." Marshall bounced Norah on his hip to the bathroom and back, not seeming to be bothered by her occasional shriek of pain. "I know, pumpkin, I know, the pain is excruciating but Sha Sha will make it better soon." He ran the rag under the tap for a minute, rolled it up like a tortilla and stuck it in the freezer. "Give that a minute and we'll try it, OK? Until then, here's my finger."

Mark watched in horror as Marshall let Norah grab his long index finger and shove it in her mouth. She bit down hard and Marshall winced but didn't say anything, just rubbed her back with his other hand.

"Doesn't that hurt?"

Marshall grimaced. "It's not comfortable – but look, she's calmer, and that's what important."

Mark shook his head. "There's no way in hell I'm sticking my finger in her mouth-"

"She's in pain, Mark. And her teeth aren't that –" he winced. "Sharp."

Mark grinned. "Oh yeah, right. You look like you're not in any discomfort."

Marshall looked down at Norah, who looked up at him and grinned around his finger, the drool running from her mouth. "It's worth it. So, what brought you by? Other than Norah's teeth?"

"Jinx called me."

Anger coursed through Marshall and he went to check the wash rag so Mark wouldn't see. He didn't begrudge Mark for being happy and in love and starting a new life – but not calling or texting or emailing for three months to check on his daughter? That was the one thing he couldn't understand. He grabbed the washrag and extracted his finger, much to Norah's displeasure. Amid her wails of protest, he was able to place the rag over her back tooth and when she closed her mouth and felt the cold rag, her eyes popped open and looked at him in surprise.

"There you go, ladybug. Doesn't that feel good?" Marshall soothed as he rocked her in his arms.

Norah slurped eagerly on the cold rag for a few minutes until her eyelids grew heavy. Her long day had finally caught up with her and she fell asleep in his arms. Marshall held a finger to his lips and motioned to his room, waiting until Mark nodded. Mary had left her extra pac-n-play set up at his place weeks ago and now Marshall gently set Norah inside, covering her with a light blanket.

Mark was leaning against the counter in the kitchen when Marshall came back out, talking quietly into his phone. Marshall put the washrag back in the freezer and looked for the teether Norah had tossed while waiting for Mark to finish his conversation.

"Sorry, that was Anne. She was wondering what time I'd be getting to New York."

"Does your flight leave soon?"

Mark nodded. "I'm on the redeye – I have to leave for the airport shortly. But I need to settle something with you first."

Marshall's eyebrow rose. "I'm listening."

"Look, Marshall, this isn't easy to say-"

"If you're trying to tell me to keep away from Mary and Norah, the answer is no. Aside from the fact that you no longer have any say in Mary's life-"

"Whoa, man. Take a breath, all right? I know things have changed between you and Mary- she told me how she feels and while I'm happy for you guys, I'm worried about the fact that you're on trial for murder one. I'm worried about how this will affect Norah if you're found guilty."

Marshall scrubbed a hand down his face. "Believe me, I've thought about it. Mary and Norah are what's keeping me going but if I'm found guilty-" he sighed. "I honestly don't know how it will affect my girls."

"Did you kill him?"

The question hung in the air for a minute or two before Marshall answered. "I don't know – I know that I could have done it – that every time I think about what Kenny did to Mary I get angry all over again and if he wasn't already dead I might-" Marshall cleared his throat. "But then I think about my life without her and Norah, and that's unacceptable. So I have to agree with Mary that while I might have gone over there to issue a warning and rough him up, no, I don't believe I killed him."

"But you don't remember what happened that night?"

Marshall shook his head. "No. I can recall things that happened about two days before Mary was attacked – and I don't remember the first time I woke up in the hospital."

"Wait, you woke up twice?"

"Evidently I woke up in the hospital not remembering anything about myself: my name, my job, nothing. Then a blood clot traveled to my brain and I had emergency surgery and when I woke up the second time, I was back to myself."

Mark grinned. "That sounds like a movie."

Marshall grunted. "Yeah, the nightmare movie of my life."

Mark checked his watch. "I need to get going."

"Wait, you never said what it was you came here to settle."

Mark waved Marshall's words away. "It's not important. I know you'd protect Mary and Norah with your life, but I know you didn't kill the S.O.B."

"Then what do you need from me, Mark? Just say it."

Mark sighed. "If the unthinkable happens and you're found guilty – I want you to call me. Mary will be devastated, and Jinx and Brandi will be so busy trying to console her that they will forget to contact me. I want your word that you will contact me, for Norah's sake. Our daughter will need me if you are no longer in the picture."

The emotions were thick in Marshall's throat and he had to clear it a couple of times before words could be formed. "You have my word, Mark."

* * *

 **Luxor Hotel – Bar**

"Excuse me, could I have a mineral water with a twist, please?"

Sugar looked up from wiping down the beer taps and froze. She hadn't seen this woman in months – and the last time she'd seen her, she definitely hadn't been pregnant. Had she?

"I'm sorry – what did you say?"

Julie sighed. "Mineral water with a twist?"

"Of course, coming right up."

Julie frowned. The young woman behind the bar looked familiar but she couldn't place her.

"Here you go," Sugar set the tumbler down in front of her and turned away but Julie's words stopped her.

"Wait – you look awfully familiar- have we met somewhere – perhaps at a fundraiser or something?"

Sugar gave the woman a small smile and shook her head, as she finally placed where it was she had seen her – leaving Kenny's house in the middle of the night, on more than one occasion.

"No, ma'am. I don't think I've ever-"

"There you are! I thought I'd lost you-" another woman's voice interrupted their conversation and Sugar eagerly took the opportunity to melt into the background.

Julie turned her head in time to meet Melody's kiss on her cheek. "I just needed some air and somewhere to put my feet up for few minutes."

The older woman smiled. "I understand, my dear. When I was pregnant with the twins-"

"Do you recognize that bartender?" Julie broke in, nodding her head in the direction of Sugar, who had moved to the other end of the counter.

Melody's brow furrowed. "No, I don't think so. Should I?"

"She looks familiar to me and I can't think why. I thought she had perhaps served at some of the recent fundraisers or – oh!"

"Julie, what is it? Is it the baby? You went awfully pale just now."

"No, I'm fine, the baby just kicked me in the wrong spot is all."

"Are you sure? Maybe I should get Kirk-"

Julie's hand came down over the other woman's forearm like a talon. "No, please don't. I'm fine, really."

Melody clicked her tongue. "You don't look fine. You look like you've had a terrible shock."

"Here's where you've been hiding."

Julie jumped at the sound of her husband's voice and released her hold on Melody's arm.

"Ah, there you are, Kirk. I was just about to come find you. Julie isn't looking well – perhaps you should take her home."

"I'll look after her, Mel, don't you worry. Stephen is looking for you."

Melody sighed. "Duty calls." She leaned forward and bussed Julie's cheek. "Get some rest, my dear. I'll call you tomorrow."

Kirk sat down in her vacated stool. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing-"

"Don't lie to me."

His words were like a slap and Julie began to shake. The bar was nearly deserted at this late hour but they were still in a public place. That was her only saving grace; if they had been at home, the words would have been accompanied by a physical slap.

"See that bartender over there?" She waited for him to look over his shoulder and then refocus on her. "She looked familiar to me and I just remembered where I had seen her before."

When she paused, Kirk growled, "Spit it out, woman."

Julie licked her lips and stared at a spot over his left shoulder, not wanting to look him in the eye when she said this next bit. "She's one of Kenny's neighbors. I saw her out walking her little dog a couple of times-"

He leaned forward and grabbed her upper arms, shaking her. "Did she recognize you?"

Julie gasped through the pain of his grip. "I don't know – I didn't ask her." She neglected to tell him about asking Sugar who she was. "You're hurting me, Kirk."

"You've been very careless and stupid, Jules. Why must I continue to clean up after your mistakes?" he hissed as he gave her one final shake and then released her.

Julie rubbed her upper arms, trying to get the throbbing to stop. "I – I'm sorry for what happened, Kirk. You know I want to make our marriage work."

He sneered at her. "Then why did you have an affair in the first place?"

Julie remained silent, knowing that any response she gave would be equivalent to setting a match to a powder keg.

"Did the bartender see you at Kenny's that night?"

"I don't know – I didn't see her."

"But that doesn't mean you weren't seen. Fuck, Jules."

"What are we going to do, Kirk?"

He laughed dryly. "You aren't going to do anything – you've done more than enough. I'll take care of it."

Julie shivered as Kirk grabbed her wrist and pulled her off the stool.

"You just remember to do exactly as I told you."

"Yes, Kirk."

Sugar watched the couple leave the bar and she was deeply troubled. She wasn't sure what she had just witnessed but she knew that the woman was in trouble and needed help – more than she could provide. She remembered seeing her leave Kenny's house one night and he had run after her, holding out a bra, and the two of them had laughed and shared a passionate kiss. They had seemed happy and in love. To see the woman in an abusive relationship broke Sugar's heart. Should she say something to Mary and Marshall – was it her place?

And what, if anything, did it have to do with Kenny's murder? Was the woman there that night? Had she been one of the last people to see him alive? Was the baby she carried Kenny's or her husband's?

Questions whirled around Sugar's brain until closing time and as she locked up, she was still so preoccupied that she didn't notice the man in the shadows that followed her home.

* * *

" _Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury, in the case of Marshall Mann, on the charge of murder in the first degree, how do you find?"_

" _Guilty, your honor."_

" _NO!"_

" _Mary, don't-"_

 _Mary vaulted the railing separating us and wrapped her arms around me. "I can't do this without you, Marshall. I can't raise Norah alone – I can't be alone – I can't-"_

" _Hush!" I cradled her face in my hands, drawing her into my lap, ignoring the chaos around us as the judge banged his gavel for order and the bailiff tried to separate us. "You and I are meant to be together and we will find a way through this – I know it!"_

" _How can you be so sure?" she sobbed, the tears streaming down her face._

" _Because you love me and I refuse to let you go now that you've admitted the words I've been waiting so long to hear." I pressed my lips to her hungrily even as I felt myself being ripped from her arms._

" _NO! NO! I need you! Don't go – we haven't had enough time!"_

" _Mary, you can do this! Be strong for Norah – I love you!"_

" _Marshall!"_

* * *

 **2:15 AM**

Marshall woke up with a gasp from his nightmare to the sound of his phone buzzing next to his head. He picked it up and read the text from Mary: _**U Up?**_

Knowing instinctively that she needed to hear his voice, he hit speed dial 2, and she picked up on the first ring.

"Hey, Doofus."

"Hey, Sunshine."

"You didn't call," her tone sounded accusatory, and he smiled in the darkness.

"Yeah, well, I was busy with a little lady who had tooth trouble."

"How is my bug?"

"Sound asleep, lucky girl."

"Did I wake you?"

"Nope."

"Bad dreams?"

"Just restless."

"Liar."

He smiled. "How about you – bad dreams?"

"Let's just say I sleep better with you than without."

"And you already know this based on one night?"

"I'm a quick study, don't you know that by now?"

"Yes, yes I do."

There was a bit of a pause before Mary whispered, "I miss you."

"Mary, I could get Norah and-"

"No, Marshall." Her sigh came over the line. "We have to stay apart for now – the press is having a field day with us as it is."

"Have you thought about the fact that your daughter is over here and I have to get her back to you somehow?"

"Joanna will come pick her up tomorrow afternoon and bring her back home."

"You certainly know how to take all the fun out of things," he pouted.

"You'll see me in court Monday."

"But I won't be able to touch you."

"You've lasted ten years without touching me."

"Things are different now, Mer," he growled.

She laughed. "I suppose they are. Look, if you're a good boy between now and then, maybe we figure out a way for you to kiss me on Monday."

"I'm going to hold you to that."

"You do that. Good night, Marshall."

"Hey, I love you, Mary."

There was a slight pause and he was worried that he had pushed her too hard tonight. But then the whisper: "I love you too," came through the phone before the call was disconnected.

* * *

 _A/N: So what was your favorite part(s)? What do you think Kirk is going to do? Reviews are LOVE!_


	16. Reflection

**_A/N: Thank you again SO much for everyone who has pestered me in the past 6 months to update this story. And thank you to everyone who has found and favorited this story during that time. The end is in sight - and if it's been awhile since you've read this fic, please read at least the previous chapter so you know what's going on! ;) Enjoy!_**

* * *

The buzzing phone woke Kirk from his light doze and he answered before it had a chance to go to voicemail.

" _It's me."_

Kirk slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Julie, and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. "What did you find out?"

" _I picked the suspect up at the hotel bar and followed her onto the #9 city bus. She got off at 2_ _nd_ _and Pine, walked for approximately half a mile until she reached her house and went inside. About twenty minutes later, she came back out, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, and leading a small poodle on a leash. She took the dog on a fifteen-minute walk before returning to her house. The lights have been off for over an hour now, so I think I can safely say that the suspect has gone to bed for the night."_

Kirk leaned his head against the bathroom wall. "She never made you?"

" _No. I followed the bus in my car, and once she got off the bus I made sure she never saw me since you already knew where she lived. I didn't follow her when she walked her dog – I didn't think that was necessary-"_

"It wasn't. I just needed confirmation of where the woman lives."

" _Well, you've got it. Do you need me to stay on the job?"_

"No, your job is done. Bill me for tonight's work – you did an excellent job, as always."

" _No problem, boss. Call me if you need anything else."_

Kirk disconnected the call and scrubbed a hand down his face as he yanked open the bathroom door, only to come face to face with a bewildered, sleepy Julie.

"Why are you shut in the bathroom in the middle of the night?"

Kirk immediately went on the defensive. "I'm not feeling well. Why are you up?"

Julie's hand rubbed her belly. "The baby's on my bladder – I have to pee, again."

"Oh, sorry."

Her eyes narrowed at his apology and she watched suspiciously as he darted out of the bathroom, noticing the phone in his hand. "Did someone call?"

"You know I can't talk about work, Jules-"

She held up her hands. "Forget I said anything-"

"No problem." He slammed the door, leaving her alone, wondering what the hell was going on.

* * *

When Brandi woke up, the first thing she noticed was how still and quiet the house was – too still, too quiet. She had woken a few hours before to feed PM and had heard the low murmurs of Mary talking on her phone, and she had heard her sister say Marshall's name. The very fact that her sister was now in a place where she could call Marshall when she had a bad night, without any outside prompting, was huge. It made Brandi smile and have hope that perhaps, everything would turn out all right in the end.

But now, the house was eerily silent. The only sound Brandi heard was PM's breathing, and that was because he was in a pillow cocoon right beside her on the bed. Before the panic could set in, her cell phone began to chirp on the nightstand, and she scooped it up eagerly.

"Hello? Mary?"

" _Squish? How'd you know it was me?"_

"I was hoping – I just woke up and the house was so still and-" Brandi hiccupped.

" _Take a deep breath, Squish. You're going to give yourself a panic attack. Come on now, in, out, in, out. Just like I showed you when we were kids, remember?"_

Brandi closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, focused on taking deep, slow breaths and the hiccups slowed, then stopped.

" _Better?"_

Brandi nodded. "Yes, how do you always know how to do that?"

" _It's a sister thing, I guess."_

"Mary, where are you?"

" _I needed a day to myself. I'm driving up into the hills to Marshall's thinking spot."_

"You don't do self-reflection."

 _Mary laughed. "I do today."_

Brandi frowned. "Are you all right? You're not running, are you?"

" _No, I'm not. For the first time in my life, I know what I want. I just don't know if it's possible-"_

Brandi waited for Mary to finish but when she didn't, Brandi added softly. "Because of the trial, or your own baggage?"

" _Stop it, Squish! I have to figure this out on my own."_

"Ok, ok, sheesh, I'm sorry."

" _I just wanted to let you know I'm ok, that I'll be back late, and that cell service is sketchy up here, so I'll be unreachable by phone."_

"Thanks for calling."

" _Don't worry about me. I'll be fine! You on the other hand- if you have another panic attack, I want you to call Marshall or Peter, okay?"_

"I can take care of myself."

" _Right. Listen to your big sister, Squish. I know how stressful it is to take care of a baby all by yourself – Peter loves you. He didn't mean to upset you yesterday. He knows Marshall is innocent. Call him."_

"I'll think about it."

" _Don't take too long. I love you, Squish."_

"I love you too."

* * *

Norah let Marshall sleep until five-thirty.

He had fallen asleep in an awkward position on his couch after his middle of the night talk with Mary, and it felt like only a few minutes had passed before Norah's ear splitting shrieks pierced the air and he shot to his feet.

"Hang on, lady bug, I'm coming."

He shuffled over to the freezer to get the wash rag before going to his room to collect Norah. The sight that met his eyes broke his heart. She was standing up, holding onto the side of the pac-n-play, tears streaming down her face. As soon as she saw him, she reached out for him.

"Dada! Dada!" she screamed.

"Oh, buttercup," he crooned as he scooped her up, placing the cold wash rag in her mouth, bouncing her gently. "Your daddy had to go back to work. He's not here. But I'm here – Sha Sha is here."

Norah's screams were reduced to whimpers by the cold rag and soon she was happily chomping on it, drool running down her chin and onto Marshall's fingers.

"Let's see it the teething gel will help today, ok?"

The combination of sleep, a cold rag, and teething gel seemed to work, as an hour later Norah was back to her easy going self. He fed her an applesauce and cracker snack, and armed with a sippy cup, strapped her into the heavy duty jogging stroller he kept at his place. Mary had laughed when he bought it during her pregnancy but he insisted that it was a necessary purchase. As her uncle, he had argued that he would be watching her overnight from time to time and she would love to go with him in the mornings when he jogged. Now, Marshall grinned and began to whistle, "I'm right, you're wrong" as he wheeled Norah out the front door and then jogged down the sidewalk.

Brandi called while he was running. She was still a bit upset and sleep deprived, but he could interpret Brandi-speak and gather that Mary had gone up to his thinking spot for the day and would he please keep Norah until tomorrow morning? He said he had no problem keeping Norah and Brandi nearly started crying in gratitude.

When he and Norah got back to the house, Stan was already there, and breakfast was in the works.

"Paw Paw!" Norah screamed, and Stan came to lift Norah from the stroller.

"What are you doing here so early, Stan?"

"What do you think? I came to see my favorite little lady!" Stan cuddled and kissed Norah.

Marshall grinned and shook his head. "No fiery eggs for her, Paw Paw Stan."

Stan shot him a dark look. "I do know how to make pancakes, Son."

Marshall laughed as he went to put the stroller away and take a quick shower before breakfast.

* * *

Mary Shannon didn't do self-reflection.

Mary Shannon was action, bullets flying, no holds barred, shoot first and ask questions later.

Mary Shannon didn't get herself into situations that she couldn't shoot her way out of, didn't lay down and die, and never, ever let her guard down enough to let someone take advantage of her.

Until that night in June when someone she had been dating managed to slip through a chink in the wall of her defenses and nearly make her a statistic.

Mary Shannon would never be a statistic.

* * *

Mary sat on a big rock, deep in the Sandia Crest park, looking down on the valley. She took a deep breath of mountain air and closed her eyes, lifting her face to the sun. She may not be one for self-reflection, but she loved to lie in the sun – that was something she could do all day.

This spot was incredibly peaceful. It was Marshall's special spot – it was where he went to decompress over the years of their partnership and after his mother's death. He had shared this spot with her after one especially tough case where both of their witnesses had died, but she hadn't been ready to appreciate it. She couldn't handle the stillness, hadn't been able to sit still and just be by his side like he needed her to be. They had spent hours hiking into this spot and once they got here, she couldn't relax and enjoy it.

This time it would be different.

Mary had come prepared. She had water and snacks, as well as a small notebook and pen. She had slaked her thirst and eaten a few cashews, and now was looking out over the valley, wondering what she should do next.

 _You can't move forward until you admit what Kenny did to you._

Mary's eyes flew shut as her therapist's words echoed in her head. Running was something else that she was very good at – if she didn't want to deal with the problem– fewer complications, less mess. She could stay in control.

Control.

Mary shivered, even though the sunshine was keeping her warm. That was the root of the problem, wasn't it? She needed to be in control all the time. She needed to say when, where, and who. Her greatest fear was not being in control of herself or her actions and that's what Kenny had taken from her that night – he had taken control, dominated her to the point where she had been powerless. There had only been one other time in her life where she had felt that powerless – the day she had been kidnapped by Chuck and his minions. But still, she had had some control, she had made the choice to use her body as a weapon to get free. With Kenny, he had drugged her, stripped her of her senses, leaving her completely open and vulnerable to being-

A victim.

With shaking fingers, Mary opened her notebook and wrote the words: _Kenny violated me_. She stared down at the words she had written, words that she hadn't even been able to say out loud. Seeing them there, in black and white, made her shake even harder. Ripping the page out of the notebook, she gripped the sheet in her hand. "Yes, you violated me," she whispered. "But you will not continue to torment me. You don't get that power over me. No matter how long it takes, I have someone in my life who will wait for me – who has been waiting for me – and for the first time, I want to look toward the future and not the past. So yes, you violated me, but I will not live my life as a statistic."

Tears were streaming down Mary's face as ripped the paper into tiny pieces and threw them over the side of the trail. She smiled as she heard Marshall's whisper in her mind:

 _That's my girl._

* * *

"Marshall! Over here!"

Marshall weaved his way through the lunch rush crowd at Mama Sofia's to the two-seater on the patio where Sugar was waiting. She jumped up and gave him a hug before reclaiming her seat and waiting for Marshall to fold himself into the small chair.

"Thanks for meeting me – I know you must have a million things to do today."

Marshall shook his head as he sipped his lemon water. "Not really, just trying to lay low and avoid the press." He glanced over his shoulder and saw that two or three reporters were clustered at the front door but Lorenzo, the owner was shaking his head and making shooing motions with his hands. "I'm glad you choose Sofia's – small place, busy time."

Sugar curled her lip and sipped her cappuccino. "Vultures – I saw the papers this morning. Do they really have nothing better to do than follow you and Mary around?"

"Well, I am a law enforcement officer on trial for murder one – so unless a bigger story breaks, I guess I'm getting the top bill in the local press." A shadow fell over their table and Marshall looked up to see Lorenzo standing over their table. "Lori, you're not going to ask me to leave, are you?"

"What? Kick my oldest friend and best customer out on the street? Bah! I am not afraid of the press!" He pulled Marshall to his feet and kissed him on both cheeks, in the European way. "You want your usual, yes?"

"Unless it is too early for gnocchi-"

"For you, no. And for the lady?" Lorenzo turned his attention to Sugar.

"I'll just have a chicken chopped salad – I'm not very hungry."

"Hmf," Lorenzo sniffed and raised a disapproving eyebrow as he turned back to Marshall. "Next time, you bring Mary. Now there's a woman with a healthy appetite!"

Marshall chuckled as Lorenzo swept away amid curious stares from other tables, only to return less than five minutes later to place a small cup of espresso at Marshall's elbow and a basket of breadsticks on the table.

"I would join you but as you see – full house today."

"It's fine. This is actually a business lunch, Lori."

"Ah, that explains much." And Lorenzo was gone again, off to wait on other tables.

"Explains what?" Sugar frowned.

Marshall sipped his espresso, smiling at the smooth, rich, dark flavor. "Lori is an excellent observer of people. He noticed that you are nervous, and of course, that I am here without Mary. My comment that this is a business lunch satisfies his curiosity."

"Am I that transparent?"

"You have a good poker face, Sugar, but you haven't stopped fidgeting with the salt shaker since I sat down."

Sugar's right hand immediately dropped the shaker and fell to her lap, her face flushed. "It's probably nothing – well, I think it's nothing. I mean, it could be nothing. I don't want you to get your hopes up but I felt that you had a right to know, you know? Since you are on trial for your life and – and everything. So I thought I should tell you in case it could be something."

Marshall waited a full minute before speaking. He found that waiting often allowed witnesses to gather their thoughts as well as calm themselves down. Sugar was obviously flustered and wanted to help him – Mary had even teased him once or twice that the girl had a bit of a crush on him. As he studied her now, he didn't see any of that in her demeanor. But he did see hero worship – and that was the last thing he needed. He didn't want to be up on anyone's pedestal. If the last six months had taught him anything, it was that he was only human and had made as many if not more mistakes than anyone else.

"Why don't you tell me what happened?"

Before Sugar could reply, a waitress came and set their entrees down in front of them. After the girl left, Sugar encouraged Marshall to eat as she told him about the woman she had seen in the hotel bar last night.

"And you're sure that she had been seeing Kenny?" Marshall pressed her.

"Positive. I've seen her leaving his house in various states of dress – or rather, undress."

Marshall nodded in understanding. "And you don't know who she is?"

Sugar fiddled with her fork. "I didn't back then – last night I heard the other woman call her Julie. And then she had an intense conversation with a man who must have been her husband."

"What makes you say that?"

"The way they interacted with each other – and the fact that they were wearing matching wedding bands."

"You said intense conversation – what does that mean?"

"At one point, he grabbed her by the arms and shook her. Marshall," Sugar sighed. "If I hadn't been in the room, I think he might have hit her."

Marshall didn't ask Sugar how she knew – Sugar had experience with abusive relationships, something from her past life that he was determined would stay in the past.

"While this is interesting, I don't see how it could help me-"

"Marshall, you didn't let me finish. This woman, this Julie, she's pregnant. And she's the police commissioner's wife."

His fork clattered to the plate. "Kenny was having an affair with the police commissioner's wife? How did they even know each other?"

"Remember – oh wait, you don't remember. Okay, the night Kenny died and you came over to see him, you and I talked. I told you he had friends in high places. Kenny went to high school with the police commissioner and Stephen, that guy that's running for city council."

Marshall's mind was echoing the phrase _friends in high places_ over and over – and suddenly he saw quick film cuts in his head:

 _Mary, leaning against his doorway, face bruised and clothing torn._

 _Mary, curled into a ball on his bed, begging him to hold her._

 _Kenny, leering at him and saying that Mary had wanted it._

 _Kenny, holding his nose and howling that it was broken._

 _Sugar, talking about Kenny having friends in high places._

 _Sugar, promising to finish her walk and go straight home._

"MARSHALL!"

He jumped and met the worried eyes of Sugar across the table. "What?"

"Where did you go? I've been trying to get your attention for five minutes now."

"I think it's time to call my lawyer."

"Why?"

Marshall held up his hand to signal for the check. "Because we both have information we need to share with her."

* * *

 ** _A/N: Hmm, is Marshall's memory back? Are the pieces finally coming together? Reviews are L-O-V-E!_**


	17. Impact

_**A/N: What's this? A second update in a week? Things are really rolling now! Buckle up and enjoy this extra long installment, readers.**_

* * *

Neither Marshall nor Sugar noticed the man in the shadows waiting for a table at Mama Sofia's as they made their hurried exit from the eatery. The man waited a full thirty seconds before strolling casually out the door, dialing a number on his cell as he went. "Hey boss, it's me. I know you told me the job was done, but I had a hunch and stayed on it. I think you'll be glad I did."

" _Why? What's happened?"_

"The suspect met Marshall Mann for lunch at Mama Sofia's. I was too far away to hear their conversation but it was intense. The two of them left in a hurry just now heading for Marshall's car." The man waited while several cuss words came over the line. "What do you want me to do?"

" _I want you to find me a car that is ready for the scrap heap, one without plates if possible. Call me back when you have it."_

"Got it. Anything else?"

" _No – and thank you for staying on the job. As usual, your instincts are right on the money."_

"That's why you pay me the big bucks, boss."

* * *

Rietta paced the small confines of Marshall's living room while her assistant Chanel perched on the end of the sofa, steno pad open and covered with notes in shorthand code known only to her.

"Why didn't we know about this sooner?" Rietta demanded. "This is very important information that can be used in your defense, Marshall!"

Sugar shrank back from the attack and Marshall held up a hand. "Hey, don't blame Sugar – she's been subpoenaed as a witness for the prosecution, remember? She's taking a risk talking to us at all."

Rietta crossed her arms. "Why is she then?"

"Because I want to help! I don't think Marshall killed Kenny." Sugar's eyes blurred with tears.

Marshall laid a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for your faith in me."

"You're welcome."

Rietta rolled her eyes. "So how can we get the police commissioner on the stand? I take it you never saw him at Kenny's house?"

Sugar slowly shook her head. "No, I recognized the guy in the bar last night from TV and the papers. But I have seen the guy who's running for city council there a few times."

"Stephen Blackett?" Chanel spoke up, wanting confirmation for her notes.

Sugar nodded.

"I can't believe that worm knew such influential people-" Rietta snorted.

"Well, back in high school, they were just regular boys," Marshall reminded her. "Although it is rather telling of their characters that the three of them stayed friends all these years."

"Right. That's an angle we need to explore as well as see if we can find out whether that baby is Kenny's."

"Does that matter?" Sugar asked.

"I think so. I mean, an affair is one thing, but if you are the police commissioner and your wife gets pregnant by another man – I don't care if he is your best friend. I still call that an excellent motive for murder," Rietta said briskly. "Let's look into that. Come on Chanel, day's almost done."

"Wait, Rietta – I still need to tell you," Marshall cleared his throat nervously as all three women's eyes fell on him. "I remember."

The words hung in the air for several moments before Sugar gasped. "You mean, you remember that night? That's great, Marshall!" she threw her arms around him in a hug.

He met Rietta's concerned gaze over Sugar's shoulders. "Everything?" Rietta pressed.

Marshall shrugged out of Sugar's hold. "Enough to know that Kenny was alive when I left. I didn't go back inside after I talked to you outside, Sugar. I saw the missed calls from Mary on my cell, so I got in my truck and left."

Sugar frowned. "But I didn't hear you go – I was listening for your truck – and I didn't hear the engine until later – that's what the prosecution is basing time of death on-"

"I know, and I can't explain it either. But I did leave very shortly after I talked to you. Maybe there was another car with a diesel engine, and you were distracted by Sprinkles so you didn't hear me leave-"

"All right, that's enough speculation," Rietta broke in crisply. "You have your memory back and that's the important thing. Both of you: keep putting the pieces together about what happened that night. Chanel and I will dig into Kirk and Stephen. And Sugar – well, it's time for you to go to work, isn't it?"

"I – I don't know if I can go to work today. Everything that's happened-"

"You should go. Get your mind off things and do something normal. After all, you testify tomorrow," Marshall urged her.

"Will you be okay?"

He smiled. "Stan and Norah should be back from the zoo anytime now."

Rietta grabbed her briefcase. "That's my cue to leave – come on, Sugar. Chanel and I will give you a ride to the Hotel."

Marshall had only been alone for ten minutes when Stan came bursting through the door, clutching a crying Norah.

"What's wrong, Lady Bug? Didn't you like the zoo? Didn't you have fun with Paw Paw?" he crooned as Norah fell into his arms.

"Da da!"

"Oh, you're still missing Daddy? I'm sorry your Daddy Mark couldn't stay longer," he bounced her on his hip as her cries reduced to whimpers.

Stan shot his inspector a look of astonishment. "You can't be serious. She missed you, Marshall, not Mark. You're dada."

Marshall looked thunderstruck. "Don't be ridiculous, Stan. I'm Sha Sha, not Da da."

Norah reached up and swiped at Marshall's head, her palm colliding with the side of face. "Da da!"

Stan laughed. "I think Norah disagrees with you. You've been promoted to daddy, Marshall!"

He leaned his head against Norah's hair and inhaled her sweet fragrance. "Oh Lady Bug, your mama and I will explain it all to you when you're older, but for now, yes, da da is here."

* * *

"Thanks for coming, Detective. I wasn't sure you would."

Abigail studied Stan's face for a moment before she dropped down onto the park bench, her gaze sweeping the area. The park was full of families, couples, and dogs; even though it was early December, the weather was mild and sunny and everyone in the city was taking advantage of it.

"I wasn't going to – but I must admit that your phone call intrigued me."

"You know he didn't do this."

Abigail's eyes landed on Stan for a moment before darting away. "The problem is, I have a job to do, the same as you and Mary and Delia. My boss is watching me for any sign of weakness and I can't afford to show him any or it will cost me my job."

Stan nodded. "I understand, I do. And that's why I'm so appreciative that you took the risk to meet with me today."

She blew a breath out from between her lips. "So, on the phone you mentioned a possible connection in the APD – do you have a name?"

"How much do you know about your boss?"

Abigail started. "Captain Cox?

Stan shook his head. "Commissioner Vincent."

Her mouth fell open. "You've got to be kidding – Stan, he's not just MY boss! He's the head of the whole APD! You better have your damn facts straight before you even think about sniffing around that tree because your career is over-"

"Detective-" Stan's voice was low but no less authoritative. It cut through her tirade and Abigail fell silent though he felt her seething on the bench next to him. "I can't tell you what new evidence has come to light because, officially, you are on the opposing side. But I do know that personally and professionally, you are on the side of justice, and if Marshall didn't kill Kenny, that means someone else did. No one is above the law, Detective. So I'll ask you again, what do you know about your boss?"

* * *

Delia and Marshall held fingers to their lips in unison when Stan returned to Marshall's apartment after his meeting in the park.

"What are you two doing – practicing being mimes?" Stan chuckled as he pocketed his keys.

"Norah just fell asleep – she needs a few minutes before she's in a deep sleep," Marshall explained.

"You are such a dad," Stan teased as he headed straight for the coffee.

"What did Abigail say?"

Stan gulped half his mug and refilled it before joining his two inspectors at the table. "Where's Mary – I don't want to leave her out of the loop."

Marshall exchanged a look with Delia. "She's taking a personal day. Don't worry, I'll fill her in tonight."

"Come on, don't keep us in suspense," Delia urged.

"Well, Abigail gave me some basic background information on our commissioner. Kirk Vincent was born in Flagstaff, Arizona and his family moved to Albuquerque just before he started grade school – been here ever since. He had several odd jobs before joining the police academy and working his way up through the ranks and becoming police commissioner three years ago." Stan paused to gulp more coffee. "She knew that Kirk and Stephen are friends but she didn't mention that Kirk knew Kenny."

"What about Kirk's wife – any info on her?" Marshall interjected.

Delia turned to stare at him. "You're kidding, right? Julie Jennings, swim suit model, runner up Miss New Mexico – ring any bells?"

Marshall shook his head. "Kirk married a supermodel?"

"Well, not by national standards, but locally, yes. Julie is famous in our state – what rock have you been living under?"

Marshall shrugged. "I don't follow the model scene-"

Stan snorted. "And Julie is a brunette – Marshall prefers blondes."

Delia snickered as Marshall flushed.

"Back on topic," Marshall steered the conversation away from Mary. "Did Abigail say she was going to do some digging for us?"

"She agreed to find out what she could without committing 'career suicide'. But she thinks we're barking up the wrong tree."

"So she thinks Marshall did it?" Delia bristled.

"No, I don't think she does – but she reminded me that she has a job to do, and that big brother is watching her."

"I don't want her putting her job at risk for me," Marshall argued.

Stan nodded. "Agreed."

"Then what's our next move?" Delia countered as she looked to Marshall for direction.

"Sugar must be protected at all cost. Rietta gave her a ride to work and she's safe enough there – the Luxor Hotel is a public place. Delia, why don't you pick her up and give her a ride home, stay with her tonight, and bring her to court in the morning?"

"You got it, Chief- I mean –" she looked in confusion from Marshall to Stan. Both of them chuckled.

Stan reached out and squeezed Delia's hand. "It's okay, Delia. You got used to Marshall being the boss and it's bound to be confusing with both us here."

Delia frowned. "What's going to happen after – are you both going to stay, or-"

Marshall placed his hand on top of Stan's. "One step at a time, Dee. Let's get out of this mess first."

* * *

" _It's me. I have the car. Where do you want it delivered?"_

Kirk glanced up to make sure the door to his home office was shut before answering. "Park it on the roof of the parking garage of the Luxor Hotel. I've put your payment in our usual drop spot. Pick up your money, leave the keys, and get the hell out of Dodge."

" _For how long?"_

"For good."

* * *

She bided her time.

The entire day, she had spent time doing things that were so un-her. She had spent hours sitting on that rock in Sandia Crest reflecting on the pain, acknowledging the fact that she was a victim, and how to start picking up the pieces of her life.

She knew what she wanted. She knew who she wanted. And no one was going to stand in her way.

He had been right. Damn the press – this was their life, and they had wasted too much time apart. Now that their feelings were out in the open, she was done messing around.

When she saw the small group of college kids heading for his apartment building, she knew her waiting had paid off. She straightened the wig on her head and exited her car, running to catch up to the laughing, slightly drunk knot of millennials before they could enter the building.

* * *

Marshall gritted his teeth as the pulsating beat came up through the floor from the apartment below. It was at times like this that he missed his house with Abigail and his own bachelor house the most. It was too early for Winter Break, so it must be a regular college keg party that was going on below him – but the constant beat followed by the occasional crash and slamming doors grated his nerves and reminded him that he wasn't a spring chicken anymore.

Fortunately, the party was below and not above them. The constant, steady thrum along with the fan in Marshall's bedroom provided enough white noise that Norah was sound asleep in her pac n play, curled up under a light afghan that Marshall's mother had made for him when he was a baby. He didn't think he'd be lucky enough to get any sleep tonight.

A knock sounded on his door, followed by a gruff voice saying, "Pizza delivery!"

"You're on the wrong floor," Marshall muttered as he strode to the door, yanking it open. "Can't you tell the party's-" the words died on his lips as he saw not a pizza delivery guy but Mary standing on his doorstep. True, she had long, wavy red hair courtesy of a wig but it was definitely his girl.

"I'm not here for the party."

"Oh?" He smirked down at her. "What are you here for?"

Mary stepped into his apartment, into his personal space. "You."

She fisted his hoodie in her hands and yanked his face down to hers, capturing his mouth with hers. Marshall groaned as he reached behind her to shut the door and then slammed her up on it, Mary moaning into his hungry mouth in approval. When they broke apart for air, he panted against her cheek, "God, Mer. You-"

"Where's Norah?"

"Asleep."

Mary attacked his mouth again, her hands wandering down to the hem of his hoodie and started to lift it up. He stopped her, pulling away with an enormous effort. "Wait-"

She shook her head. "No – I want you."

He cupped her face. "I know – I can feel that." He watched as a beautiful blush spread across her skin. "And you know I want you too. But less than twenty-four hours ago you had a panic attack and clocked me. You know we need to take things slow. I'm not going anywhere."

Tears filled her eyes. "You don't know that."

"Mary, I need to talk to you. We have leads-"

She knocked his hands from her face. "What? What the hell did I miss-"

He took her hand. "Come sit down with me and we'll talk."

"Lose the hoodie first."

"I don't have anything else on."

She grinned. "I know."

He shook his head. "You'll distract me and this is important, Mer."

She rolled her eyes. "So go put on a wife beater."

When Marshall came back to the living room in the requested clothing, Mary had lost her wig as well as her long-sleeved shirt, leaving her in jeans and a lacy camisole. Marshall gulped and sat down hard on his sofa, waiting for Mary to join him, which she did, swinging her legs up and curling into his side.

"Tell me what I missed today."

He shook his head. "I want you to go first."

"Why?"

"Because I want to hear about your self-reflection – and I know that if I tell you about the leads, you'll get so focused on that, we won't get back to you."

She huffed into his chest. "I think your news is more important."

He lifted her face until their eyes locked. "Not to me."

She swallowed hard as she searched for how to begin. "I – I was finally able to admit to myself, out loud, that Kenny violated me."

He felt the shudder go through her body and held her tighter, waiting for her to continue.

"I was arguing over the semantics of it, you know? Just because he never finished the act, that meant he never raped me, I wasn't a victim. But that's not true. Kenny took something from me that night – but it wasn't so much that he violated me sexually, although that is important. The part that I have been struggling with the most is that he took my power, my control. I've always had control over situations and relationships with men – and for the first time that night, I didn't. I was completely at his mercy and that's someplace I never want to be again."

She was crying and Marshall reached behind him to get the tissues, allowing her the time to collect herself and calm down a bit. When she started speaking again, she shifted the subject from Kenny to the two of them.

"Our partnership has always been this blend of give and take – although I realize I did most of the taking and you most of the giving. No, don't try and deny it, Doofus, you know it's true. You let me wear the pants and be in control for ninety percent of the time, though you were perfectly capable of handling any and all situations that came our way. I want to tell you that things will be different – and in the future, I hope they will be. But for now, and in the immediate future, I'm afraid that I will still need to be taking control. I'm afraid it's a direct fallout from what happened to me-"

"No, Sunshine, it's who you are," Marshall interrupted her softly. "It's the woman I fell in love with. The simple fact that you love me back, and will hopefully ask me what I want from time to time – that's all I ask. It's more than I thought we would ever have."

She shifted her head on his shoulder so she could look him in the eye. "But how can you be content with that – with me? I'm such a selfish bitch, Marshall. I've taken so much from you and given you nothing in return for years-"

He shrugged a shoulder. "I'm no saint, Mer. I nearly married another woman when you were the one I really loved."

She arched an eyebrow. "Touché."

"But all of that – your engagement to Raph, mine to Abigail – those are in the past. They have shaped who we are and brought us to this moment where we are now, together: you, me, and Norah. I love you, Mary Shannon."

She reached up and cupped his face. "I don't deserve-"

He placed a finger against her lips. "Don't you dare finish that sentence."

Removing his finger, she surged up to meet his lips, moving over his mouth hungrily. "But I do love you," she breathed the words against his skin.

He groaned and lowered her to the sofa, his hands roaming over her body, his earlier words of needing to talk being forgotten by his primal need for her. She slowly rolled until she was the one on top, rocking her body into his, and in that moment, Marshall didn't even care that there was a wild keg party going on downstairs. All that mattered was this woman in his arms - she was the only thing that had ever mattered.

* * *

Sugar was exhausted, both mentally and physically.

Her brain hurt from running scenarios: all the possible reasons and explanations why she didn't hear Marshall's truck leaving that night. Was it because she'd been so focused on Sprinkles, keeping her on the leash, that she'd missed him leaving?

Sugar's back and feet hurt from running around all night. Instead of her usual quiet job in the main dining room of the Luxor, she'd had to fill in for Manny in the events room. Another fundraiser, another crowd of Albuquerque's elite, dressed to the nines, and ready to consume copious amounts of alcohol and food.

She jumped when a hand fell on her shoulder, and looked up to meet the eyes of her boss, the hotel manager, Jeremy. "Go home, Sugar. I'll close up this party."

She tried to hide her smile of relief. "You sure, boss? I still have a half hour left on my shift-"

"You look like crap. Go home and get some sleep. You have a big day tomorrow – but don't be late for your shift."

Sugar held up her hand in a pledge. "I'll be here – unless I come down with whatever it is Manny's got-"

"The only thing Manny's got- never mind, it's not contagious. Just beat it and I'll see you tomorrow."

Delia had texted Sugar earlier in her shift, letting her know that she would give her a ride home. Now, as Sugar exited the hotel out a service door and made her way to the bus stop, she pulled out her phone to text Delia, letting her know that she was leaving work early and to meet her at home. She had just pressed the send button when she saw the bus approaching the stop.

"Shit!" she swore as she sprinted up the block toward the crosswalk, knowing that if she waited for the light, she would miss the bus. Looking both ways for traffic, she darted into the intersection.

"Look out!"

She heard someone scream and she turned her head in time to see the oncoming headlights, but Sugar never knew what hit her.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Oh snap! Is Sugar going to live? Will her hit and run driver be caught? Will Mary and Marshall get their happy ending? Stay tuned - and as always, reviews are LOVE!**_


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